Bet On Love
by eenak
Summary: What happens when Quinn and Rachel find themselves drunk and together in Vegas? Why marriage of course! Faberry AU based loosely on the film What Happens in Vegas.
1. Chapter 1 - Hey Berry Lets Go to Vegas

AN: Okay so I _should_ be finishing my never ending DEBS fic (and when my co-writer finds out I've posted this they are likely to hunt me down and kill me), but the Faberry plot bunnies just won't leave me alone, so I'm breaking down and posting this. I really don't know how often it will be updated, but as there isn't much of a plot, it should be easy to follow in fits and spurts. I will _try_ to update at least every few weeks, but that is highly likely to change. I do have the fic fully outlined plot wise - so it will be finished - I left the exact number of chapters up in the air for now but it should be around 10.

For this fic Brittany is going to be the most out of character, everyone else should have recognizable traits, though for fic related reasons they are a bit OOC.

Obviously given the state of marriage equality in the U.S. (or lack thereof) I have taken some liberties for the sake of the fic. Any legal stuff that is completely off base is also on me - but this is fluff not reality so just go with it.

As always I would love to know what you think of it. This first bit is un-edited so all mistakes are on me. This is really just a short set up chapter, future chapters will likely be longer.

**Chapter 1: Hey Berry Let's go to Vegas**

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"C'mon Berry stop being such a tight-ass, it will be fun," Santana insisted as she flopped down on her friend's bed.

"Santana, while I appreciate your attempt to get my mind off of recent… unpleasant events, I hardly think a weekend in "Sin City" is the cure all that you seem to think will be," Rachel insisted staunchly. She picked up her hairbrush for the table surface and completed the first of her one-hundred nightly strokes. She sighed quietly to herself as she met her gaze in the mirror of her vanity table. Maybe Santana and Jesse were right, maybe she didn't know how to have fun.

Hearing the sigh from the diva Santana lifted her head from its resting spot on the bed and met her friend's gaze in the mirror. "Don't think about that bitch Rachel, she isn't worth it."

Rachel smiled slightly at her friend, appreciating the show of loyalty. "She's not a bitch Santana," Rachel defended her ex. "She just knew what she wanted, and that wasn't me. So instead of dragging out the inevitable she chose to end it." Rachel nodded her head, a small show of approval. "I admire her decisiveness."

Santana rolled her eyes in frustration and let out an aggravated sound, akin to a growl. "Please, that bitch was stringing you along from the get go. Did you two even ever sleep together?"

Rachel flushed in embarrassment, but shook her head in the negative. "Well…no..no…she said she wanted to wait until we had made a firm commitment to each other, she doesn't believe in casual sex."

"Oh please," the Latina scoffed. "The bitch never had any intention of sleeping with you, even if you had dragged her to Massachusetts and married her ass. She just wanted to ride your coat tails until she could get in close with the right people and land enough roles to make a name for herself."

Rachel continued to stroke the brush through her hair, _thirty-three…thirty-four, _and dropped her gaze in shame. While she was trying to defend Jesse's motive to Santana, and in large part to herself, there was a large part of her that couldn't deny her friend's words.

She and Jesse St. James had met at an open cast call for a small off Broadway show over a year ago. Almost immediately the curly haired singer had latched on to Rachel and staked her claim. Rachel was well accustomed to people admiring her for her singing voice, even if she had still yet to catch her big break, but she had never had someone show such an interest in her personally. While the other girl may have pursued her with a single minded intensity in the beginning, once she had landed Rachel, their relationship seemed to level off. Not wanting to pressure the other singer Rachel had agreed to Jesse's wish to keep thinks light on the physical front. For the past year they had been in a kind of holding pattern, until last week when Jesse suddenly announced that things just weren't working out, and that she wanted to end the relationship.

Rachel had been blindsided, thinking that she had finally found the one person that would stick by her. They were remarkably well matched, shared the same passion for music, and the same single minded intensity and drive to succeed. Shortly after the break-up it was announced that Jesse would be starring in a new off Broadway musical that they had both auditioned for, a role Rachel thought would finally be her big break.

Seeing her friends downcast expression Santana got off the bed and walked over to her the small brunette, resting her hands on the other woman's shoulders. "Seriously Rachel, don't waste any more of your time pining over that bitch – she doesn't have a quarter of your talent."

Rachel gazed into the mirror, once again meeting her friend's gaze. "Yet she has the role that I thought for sure would finally catapult me into the spotlight."

Santana furrowed her brows, not sure if the information she had recently learned would make the small singer feel better or worse about the whole situation. Santana felt the familiar anger churn in her gut as she took in her friends dejected posture.

Okay sure, Berry could be demanding, high-strung, spoiled, condescending and almost unbelievably self involved, but she was also one of the most loyal people that Santana had ever met. It pissed her off that time and time again the small diva seemed to fall into relationships with utter parasites and scumbags.

"Trust me, according to my sources, you wouldn't have wanted to do what was necessary to land that role," the Latina finally stated in a sardonic tone.

Finally completing her one hundred strokes Rachel turned in her seat, dislodging her friend's hands, and facing the taller brunette. "What do you mean?" Rachel questioned. She had put her all into that audition and couldn't imagine what else would have been required of her. She had researched the character extensively, done countless test runs with Jesse, she had had that part down cold.

"Well word is that she may have had to get a bit horizontal to seal the deal," Santana confided.

Rachel felt her mouth fall open in shock. She jumped up and began to pace back and forth. "Surely your sources are mistaken. While I am disappointed that our relationship didn't work out as I had hoped I hardly think Jesse would be capable of what you are suggestion," Rachel insisted, her hands flapping about in agitation.

"Oh trust me, my sources are beyond reproach. Besides, are you actually saying that she beat you out of that role based solely on her talent?" Santana questioned, knowing that the diva's ego wouldn't allow her to concede that another singer was better suited for a role that she had set her sights on.

Rachel stopped in her tracks, and swung her gaze to her friend. "Well….no….not when you put it that way." Shoulders slumping she made her way over to her bed and collapsed onto the side, utterly dejected. "It was all a lie." Shaking her head she felt tears start to well up. Very few people ever saw this side of Rachel Berry. To the outside world she was careful to present an image of utter self confidence, disappointments, and the occasional insult, rolling off her back with little to no notice.

Santana cursed inwardly and walked over to sit beside her friend. Looping her arm around the smaller girl's shoulders she pulled her in tight to her side. She was one of the few people that ever saw the more vulnerable side to Rachel. She often thought that if the other girl was just willing to let others in a bit more, she would find that special someone she always seemed to be looking for, but never finding.

Rachel sniffled back that tears that were threatening. "How can I be such an idiot?"

"You aren't an idiot," Santana defended loyally, though inwardly she thought that maybe the small singer was more than a little blind when it came to her personal life.

Rachel shot her friend a "yeah right" look. "Do you think she was even gay? I mean we were together for almost a year and we barely got past heavy kissing."

Santana winced. "Honestly?" Rachel nodded her head, and Santana sighed. "No. She never even blipped the tiniest ping on my gaydar," Santana confessed.

"God even my gaydar doesn't work," Rachel wailed melodramatically. "Two gay fathers, gay best friend, have know I liked girls since I hit puberty and a _still _can't tell when a woman is straight." Rachel stood abruptly from the bed and stalked a few steps away before turning to glare at her friend. "If you _knew_ she was straight why didn't you tell me?" Rachel asked accusingly, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

Santana held her hands up in a defensive posture. "Hey, I tried. If I remember correctly you wouldn't hear a word said against her." Adopting the petite brunette's signature speaking style, the Latina mockingly recalled. "You just don't understand someone that has a strong sense of personal decorum Santana. I rather admire her desire to keep our courtship chaste, it shows that she thinks highly of me, of us, and respects us both enough to make sure the time is right. Why don't you focus more on my professional affairs and less on my personal ones."

Rachel crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. She wanted to refute the Latina's words but she couldn't, that was a near perfect recall of the conversation that had occurred when Santana had initially voiced her concerns about Jesse. "You should have made me listen if you felt that strongly about it," Rachel insisted stubbornly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "I love ya Berry, but you have never tried to convince you of anything. Trust me when I say futile doesn't even begin to describe it."

"I just can't believe that I wasted a year of my life on yet another relationship that was apparently doomed before it even began," Rachel cried.

"This is why you need to let loose and just enjoy some meaningless sex, no pressure, no expectations. You take this relationship stuff far too seriously, _chica_. You need to just let go for once and not worry about the consequences."

"I don't know," Rachel replied uncertainly. Sensing that the other girl was weakening Santana sprung up from the bed and walked over to her friend.

"If you won't listen to me as your friend, then listen to me as your manager," the Latina cajoled, a feral grin in place, just about able to taste victory. "Since Jesse St. Slutbag stole this role out from under you, you are going to have to hit the audition circuit hard, and to do that successfully you need to be nice and relaxed."

Rachel bit her lip, still undecided, but slowly coming around to Santana's point of view. She had never been one to engage in casual sex, always leaving that domain in Santana's capable hands. She wasn't a total prude however, and having gone over a year without sex had put her decidedly on edge. She really wasn't looking to get into another relationship, seeing as she had such disastrous luck in that department.

"Well….maybe."

Santana grinned in triumph. "No maybe about it Berry, this is going to be just what the doctor ordered. Now get that sweet ass in gear and get packed," she gave her friend a playful swat on the ass, causing the smaller girl to squeak in surprise, "our flight leaves in two hours."

Rachel spun and glared at her friend. "You already booked the flight? That was a bit presumptuous of you wasn't it?"

"Prepared Berry, I was just planning ahead," Santana replied casually. "Besides if you decided to be stubborn and not go I was just going to trade in your ticket to upgrade to first class and have myself one hell of a weekend," Santana replied cheekily. "Now stop finding things to nit-pick and get ready." Rubbing her hands together gleefully the taller brunette smiled at her still doubtful friend. "You'll see, this is going to be the best weekend ever."

* * *

"So do you have any plans this weekend?" Brittany asked her friend with forced casualness, pulling her jacket more tightly around herself as the two blonde's walked down the deserted streets. They had just gotten off their late shift at the diner they both worked at, and were making the 15 block journey to the small apartment they shared.

Quinn shook her head and let out a sad sigh. "Not a one. Just going to try to keep myself from hopping the first bus to Lima."

Brittany smiled sadly and leaned over to bump shoulders with her friend in a show of support. "It's going to be okay, she'll be back before you know it, and then you can put this whole ordeal behind you."

Quinn sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She wanted to believe her friend, but mostly she just felt a crushing sense of foreboding. "I just don't understand why they had to do this now? All those years they could have tried to be a part of her life, and now suddenly they demand visitation?"

"You know why Quinn," Brittany replied sadly.

Quinn bit her lip and nodded her head. She did know why. All those years her parents had viewed her as just a disappointment; the good little Christian daughter that had fallen off the pedestal and gotten pregnant out of wedlock. While they had let their disapproval be known they hadn't really pressed to be a part of her and Libby's life. They would call occasionally, mostly to inquire if she had met a suitable man yet and settled down. Each day she remained a single mother was another day they had to endure the shame of having a harlot for a daughter.

Finally unable to take it any longer Quinn had exploded and told them that not only had she not found a man, there would never be a man. She was gay. Her revelation had been met with a glacial silence, followed by the sound of a dial tone. The next contact she had from her parents was via their lawyer. The words mandatory visitation, custody, and parental fitness, had all swum before her confused gaze.

The Fabray's wanted to take Libby away from her. Not able to hire an expensive lawyer, she had to rely on an overworked legal aid attorney, and as ludicrous as it seemed, after almost three-years of virtually no contact, the Fabray's had managed to convince an Ohio family court judge to grant their petition for a month long visitation with their grand-daughter. Quinn had tried to fight it, but with little time, and the meager resources that she could afford on a waitress's salary, she had been unsuccessful in blocking their request. Her parents had arrived earlier that week and whisked her daughter away, leaving behind nothing but an empty aching void.

"I hate them," Quinn stated hollowly. "They're my parents, I'm supposed to love them."

"You'll get her back Quinn, this is only temporary. No judge is going to give them permanent custody just because you're gay," Brittany reassured her friend.

Quinn laughed, a harsh sound devoid of any trace of mirth. "Just like no judge would award them a month long visitation without my approval?"

"We'll get a better lawyer. We'll fight this Quinn." Brittany hated to see her friend so despondent. Ever since she had learned she was pregnant she had shifted her entire life to make sure her daughter was put first. For anyone, especially the blonde's absentee parents, to argue that she was an unfit mother was absurd.

Quinn shook her head, still lost in a sea of self recriminations. "This is all my fault, if I had just kept my temper and not blurted out that I was gay none of this would be happening." Quinn laughed harshly again. "I mean it's not like I actually go on dates, it's not like it really makes any practical difference."

Brittany clapped her hands together, startling her companion. "Okay, enough dwelling on what you can't change. What you need is a distraction, if you spend the remaining three and a half weeks thinking about this you are just going to drive yourself insane." Quinn had been in an almost catatonic state of depression since Libby had been picked up by her parents, and Brittany was starting to become concerned. "And that's why you are going to put all of this out of your head and have fun this weekend. You and I my friend are going to let loose and party."

Quinn looked at her friend with a look that said "are you crazy" clearly written on her face. "I'm really not in the partying mood Brittany, besides, even if I wanted to I can't afford to go out and do anything." All of the blonde's meager earnings were being funneled into her legal fund. The only bright spot she could find in this bleak situation was that with Libby away she would be able to save money on babysitters, and maybe even pick up a second or third job. Maybe if she worked herself until she was ready to collapse she could manage to hold it together until the end of the month.

Brittany shook her head. "You don't worry about it, this weekend is on me." Grabbing her friends hand she pulled her forward. "So come on and hurry up, our flight leaves in a little over an hour, we are going to have to scramble if we are going to make it."

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks, causing the other blonde to jerk to a stop. "Our flight?" Quinn questioned in disbelief. She was half convinced that the stress and worry had finally caused her to break and she was now suffering from delusions.

Brittany nodded, grinning happily. "You and I are going to Vegas for the weekend."

"Vegas?" Quinn replied blankly.

"Yup. I called my cousin, and he got us a killer deal on a weekend package. The only downside is that we have to take the red-eye." Tugging on her friend's hand she once again tried to get her moving forward. "So come on, we still have to get you packed. I did my packing earlier so it hopefully won't take too long."

Still too stunned to put up much resistance Quinn allowed herself to be dragged down the sidewalk. Shaking her head to try to clear some of the cobwebs Quinn finally snapped out of her trance. "Brittany I can't go to Vegas."

"Ticket's are already purchased, too late to back out now."

Quinn frowned. "That's another thing. There is no way that I can afford this trip, and there is also no way I can let you pay my way." Quinn knew that money was almost as tight for the other woman as it was for her. That was part of the reason that the two shared the tiny two bedroom apartment.

Brittany shook her head, refusing to hear any opposition, and continued to drag her reluctant friend down the sidewalk. "Again. Too late, it's already paid for, and since it was all booked so last minute there is no way I can get a refund. So either we go and have a good time, or you stay here and wallow, regardless the money has already been spent."

Quinn bit her bottom lip. "Brittany…," she tried to argue weakly.

Brittany stopped and turned to face her long time friend. "Quinn you need this. You haven't taken any time for yourself since you found out you were pregnant with Libby. If you don't take a little time to get away, clear your head, and try to de-stress, you are going to drive yourself into an early grave." Reaching out Brittany drew Quinn into a tight hug. "Let me do this for you."

Quinn swallowed back the tears that were suddenly clogging the back of her throat. She would find a way to pay this back. After everything with Libby was settled she would make it right. For now she was just going to swallow her pride and not hurt her friend's feelings by declining her generosity.

Nodding her head jerkily she tightened her arms around the taller blonde. "Come on. Why are we standing around hugging on the sidewalk when we have a flight to catch." Her voice was a little hoarse but she managed to fight back the tears.

Brittany pulled out of the hug and smiled broadly at her friend. "This is going to be so much fun!" she squealed in excitement.


	2. Chapter 2 - What Happens in Vegas

**Chapter 2: What Happens in Vegas...**

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"Santana I just want to go back to the room," Rachel whined plaintively as she was dragged down the street by her determined friend.

The Latina shook her head and continued to tow the reluctant singer behind her as they made their way down the crowded pedestrian walk ways of the Strip. "Not gonna happen Berry. I did not bring you to Vegas so you could spend the whole time sulking in your hotel room and watching depressing romantic comedies on T.V."

"You do realize that's a contradiction right?" Rachel pointed out grumpily.

"Not when watching them makes you start bawling like a newborn."

Rachel blew out a frustrated breath. Her feet hurt. She was tired. It was hot and dry and she just wanted to hide under the covers. "I thought you brought me on this trip so I could relax before starting a grueling audition run. This is not relaxing!"

Santana continued on, undeterred by the diva's mini tantrum. After being friends with her for over twenty years she was well used to them by now. "I brought you here to blow off some steam. You can sleep when we get back to New York."

"I don't see why we have to go to a club. They're loud, stuffy, and not at all the type of thing I enjoy. Why can't we just go to a show?" Rachel questioned. "The new Cirque show is supposed to be simply amazing. I was reading a write up on it on the plane and I think I would be remiss if I failed to see it while I was in town."

Santana rolled her eyes. "This trip is about _fun_ Berry, not work. And since you are _clearly_ not able to have fun on your own, I am going to show you how."

"I know how to have fun," Rachel insisted. Her idea of fun was just a little more laid back than most people's that was all. Jesse understood that, they could spend hours dissecting a musical score, debating the highlights and weaknesses, _that _was fun. Not fending off the sloppy drunken advances of people she wouldn't be able to hold a real conversation with.

As Rachel continued to be dragged down the sidewalk she took in her surroundings. After landing early this morning, Santana had made a beeline for the gaming floor as soon as they dropped their bags off in the room. Rachel had tried to beg off, but the Latina had insisted. Rachel had managed to sneak off when the Latina had become engrossed in a game of Black Jack and managed to grab a few hours of much needed sleep. Until now though, she had seen very little of the Strip itself.

She had to admit it had a garish kind of appeal. Everything was exaggerated and larger than life, and all of the neon reminded her in some small way of the billboards that graced Broadway. The dry, hot air of the desert however made it clear that while parts of it may remind her of home, this wasn't it. As she approached a line of women handing out little cards, she accepted them without question with a smile.

"Why Rachel if I had known you were in to that sort of thing I would have made different plans for this evening," Santana joked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Santana."

"Did you even look at what was on that card?"

Rachel creased her brow in confusion and looked at the seemingly innocuous card that she held in her hand. When she realized the content of the card, she let out a squeak of distaste and dropped the card on the ground, wiping her hand on her skirt in an effort to clean it.

"Tsk Tsk, Rachel, it's not right to litter," Santana scolded playfully.

"Well just this once I will make an exception. That was utterly disgusting." Rachel shuddered delicately.

Santana laughed at her petite friend's reaction. "Oh I don't know. A good old fashion Vegas sex show might be just the thing to loosen you up."

"Santana I swear if you drag me to one of those denigrating, misogynistic, exploitive things I will never speak to you again."

"Relax, I want you to blow off some steam, not die of a heart attack." Santana finally came to a stop and queued up at the end of a short line. "This is supposed to be one of the hottest gay clubs in Vegas. So even you should be able to have fun."

The line mercifully moved quickly, her feet really were killing her and she just wanted to find a seat. Entering the club, Rachel was pleasantly surprised by the luxurious, elegant feel of the place. She had expected Santana to bring her to a much trashier venue, if only to throw her even further out of her comfort zone.

Seeing the surprised look on her friend's face Santana smirked. "Wasn't quite what you were expecting?"

Rachel met her friend's gaze, her expression contrite. "Not quite. I figured you would drag me to a loud, smoky, over-crowded, meat market."

Santana smiled widely. "Oh it's got that too, it just also has a bit of a more low key area as well. I figure we can get you warmed up out here and then move to the other half of the club when you're sufficiently lubricated."

Rachel shot her friend a worried glance. Santana knew that Rachel did not handle her alcohol well, the last time the two had gone out drinking it had ended with Rachel being escorted off of the table top and out of the club by a less than impressed bouncer. "Santana…" Rachel said warningly.

"Relax, I'll make sure you don't make a total ass of yourself. Unlike you, I can handle my liquor. Now go find us a table and I will go to the bar. We need to get our drink on." Rachel nodded her head, still somewhat reluctant, but went to go find them a table.

Santana watched her friend go with a careful gaze, half to make sure no one hassled her, and half to make sure she didn't make a run for the door. Satisfied that she wasn't planning to flee the scene, she headed towards the bar scoping out the crowd as she went along. In order for her plan to work, she needed to find just the right girl.

Her eyes quickly passed over, and dismissed candidate after candidate. _Too slutty. Too drunk. While I appreciate the flexibility required for that move, she would probably kill Rachel. _Suddenly here eyes stopped on a pair of blondes, standing off by themselves. At first glance they might appear to be together, but the body language was all wrong. _The Doublemint twins definitely look promising. _Deciding to try her luck she made her way over to the two, although she was pretty confident they wouldn't be able to resist her. I mean who could?

She eyed the two more closely as she drew closer, trying to figure which would be the most receptive. The taller of the two seemed to be trying to coax her shorter friend into dancing, but was met with limited success. The shorter, while definitely a hottie, had her arms crossed and was shaking her head slowly from side to side. _Contestant number 1 it is then._

"Hey, I saw you guys from the bar and I was wondering if you would like to…"

"Not interested." The shorter of two cut her off before she could even finish her sentence.

"Charming," Santana teased playfully, giving the taller girl her most charming grin. The girl nodded her head slightly and slapped her friend lightly on the arm.

"She just doesn't get out much." Santana nodded her head in understanding, smile still in place to let the friendlier blonde know that she wasn't put off by her friend's surly response.

"Well as I was trying to say, my friend and I have a table and I was wondering if you wanted to join us."

The shorter blonde scowled and shook her head. "Like I said, not interested, we are just trying to have a good time, not get scammed on by you and your _friend." _She imbued the last word with such scathing contempt, there was little as to what she thought Santana's intent was.

Santana held her hands up defensively, slowly starting to back away. "Hey no problem. My friend was just feeling a little down and I wanted her to have fun, but if you aren't interested, that's cool. Sorry I bothered you."

"Wait." The taller girl reached out and stopped Santana's departure with a hand placed on her forearm. Santana shivered lightly at the contact but ignored it as just coincidence. "We would love to join you." The shorter blonde opened her mouth, but her friend shot her a warning glare, silencing the protest.  
"I'm Brittany, and my grumpy companion is Quinn."

"Santana," the Latina replied with a smile. This would work out well, Brittany looked like she was down for a good time, and she was certainly easy on the eyes. Quinn, with her more reserved demeanor and more toned down and almost innocent appearance, while certainly not her type, was right up Rachel's alley. Besides, if experience had taught her anything, it was that the uptight ones were always the most wild once you got a few drinks in to them. So unless she had totally missed the mark, Rachel was in for a good time tonight.

* * *

Rachel sat at the table, waiting impatiently for Santana's return. If she didn't show up soon she was seriously considering just going home. She didn't really want to be here in the first place, and if Santana was just going to abandon her, there was little point in hanging around.

Just as she had resolved to get her stuff and go, she noticed the brunette making her way towards the table, two drinks in hand. Rachel bit back a groan when she saw that the fiery Latina had two blondes in tow.

She should have known that Santana wouldn't be able to go to the bar without coming back with some companionship. Rachel narrowed her eyes at the trio. _It figures, I can't even find one woman, Santana is gone for under five minutes, and manages to find two. _

Santana set Rachel's drink in front of her and urged her to scoot over so she could sit down. Rachel grumbled slightly but slid along the semi- circular bench seat to make room. On the other side of the table, Brittany urged Quinn into the booth before her. The irritated blonde shot her friend an annoyed glance but complied.

Santana smiled, happy that the two most likely to bolt were now trapped. "Rachel this is Brittany," she motioned to the blonde sitting across from her, "and her friend Quinn." Rachel glanced at the girl sitting next to her, and smiled slightly in greeting. She had to hand it to Santana; she certainly knew how to pick them. The girl was gorgeous, with alabaster skin, sparkling hazel eyes, and softly curling blonde hair.

"Nice to meet you both," Rachel replied politely.

"I figured we see enough of each other that the evening would be much more fun if we invited others to join our little party," Santana supplied. Rachel sent her friend a raised eyebrow stare, letting her know she was aware of exactly why the two blondes had been brought to join them. Santana smirked in response, but shook her head slightly.

"Do you want to dance?" Santana asked suddenly, holding her hand out to Brittany. The blonde girl nodded happily and took the Latina's hand. Rachel watched in confusion as the two made their way towards the dance floor.

She turned toward Quinn, who was still occupying the booth. "Didn't you want to join them?"

Quinn frowned in puzzlement. "Why would I?"

"Um…weren't you with them?"

"Well I was with Brittany but we're not attached at the hip," Quinn replied slowly, still confused.

"Oh I thought that the two of you were, you know…_with_ Santana," Rachel supplied, trying to be delicate.

Quinn's confusion cleared. "Um…no, not my thing." Quinn shot a worried glance towards the dance floor, searching for her friend. Rachel watched the blonde, finding her concern for her friend sweet.

She reached out and took a drink from her glass. _Damn you Santana. _ Her friend's plan was now crystal clear to the tiny brunette. Clearly Santana hadn't been hoping to hook up with the two girls, she had brought one for Rachel. _How sweet, _Rachel thought sardonically.

Rachel took in the still frowning blonde. _She looks about as happy to be here as I am. _"So what brings you to Vegas? Do you live here?" Rachel asked, she figured if she was going to have to spend the evening with the other woman she might as well get to know her.

Quinn turned away from her search of the dance floor and faced her table mate. "Oh, Brittany thought I could use a weekend away. I'm from back east," Quinn replied vaguely. She didn't want to be rude and ignore the girl, but she wasn't about to spill her whole life story either. _Besides, who would want to hear all that shit anyway?_

Rachel laughed, the action lighting up her features, and Quinn couldn't help but notice how pretty the other woman was. "Clearly Santana and Brittany were made for each other," seeing Quinn's look of confusion she elaborated, "I find myself here as the result of a concerned friend as well."

Quinn smiled wryly. "Are you as thrilled to be here as I am?" the blonde questioned, taking a sip of her drink.

Rachel nodded. "Oh yes, I was simply thrilled to learn late last night that I would be boarding the red eye and then told that I couldn't even sleep when we landed. It has been one _wonderful _surprise after another."

Quinn rolled her eyes, and nodded her head in commiseration. "Okay they really are made for each other, that's pretty much exactly what Britt did to me." Quinn raised her glass. "To bossy friends." Rachel laughed and clinked her glass against the blonde's in a toast.

"Without them we would be happy at home in our beds," Rachel finished the toast and took another healthy swallow. _What the hell, I am supposed to be on a mini-vacation after all. _"So why did you need a weekend away?" Rachel questioned.

Quinn grimaced, taking a drink. "Long, boring, unpleasant story, but the short version is family issues," Quinn answered evasively. "What about you?" she asked, trying to deflect the brunette from asking a follow up query.

"Bad break-up," Rachel replied. "I apparently have abysmally poor taste in women. I have decided to swear off dating altogether, it is just not worth the hassle," Rachel proclaimed dramatically, taking another swallow, and frowning when she realized her glass was almost empty.

Quinn smiled softy in understanding. "I'm sorry, that sucks."

"What about you? Seeing anyone?" Realizing that the question sounded rather like a cheesy pick-up line Rachel hastened to add, "I'm just curious, I'm not asking for myself." Again realizing her mistake she hurried on, "Not that you're not attractive, because you are. It's just as I've said I have sworn off the whole dating thing," Rachel finished, somewhat flustered. _Shit what was in that drink? I haven't babbled this badly since high school. _

Quinn smiled, finding the brunette's flustered litany adorable. "Relax. I know that you aren't trying to pick me up. You're friend maybe, but you don't seem the type." Rachel was torn between feeling complimented and insulted by the statement, before she could dwell on it too much Quinn continued. "But no, not seeing anyone. Haven't for a while, no time."

Rachel nodded. "I know what you mean. I barely have time to eat most of the time, work takes up almost all my time."

"Is that what caused the break-up?" Quinn questioned, leaning forward slightly and resting her forearms on the table.

Rachel grimaced, shaking her head in the negative. "No. Well, yes. Not really. Kind of?"

Quinn laughed, "Okay well that clears that up."

Rachel sighed, running her hands through her hair. "We worked together." Seeing Quinn wince in sympathy Rachel nodded her head. "I know. And we didn't really work together so much as work in the same, highly competitive field." Seeing Quinn's blank look Rachel supplied, "I'm an actress."

"That must have made it difficult. Being in competition with your significant other."

Rachel smiled sadly. "Well it just goes to show how naive I was. I never thought it was that much of a problem. Until she left me and landed the part I thought I was a shoe in for," Rachel finished with a wry twist of her lips.

Quinn smiled in sympathy. "Ouch. That has to sting."

"It did. Does. That's why Santana dragged me to Vegas. She figured I could use some cheering up."

"And how is that plan working out so far?" Quinn asked.

Rachel smiled at the blonde. "It's starting to look like she might have been on the right track." The brunette let her eyes run over the blonde.

Quinn flushed slightly at Rachel's direct appraisal, and took another fortifying swallow from her nearly empty glass.

"Excuse me, ladies?" Quinn and Rachel turned their attention to the side of the table, where a waitress stood with a loaded drink tray in hand.

Rachel smiled at the waitress kindly but shook her head. "Sorry wrong table, we didn't order anything." While Rachel had enjoyed her drink she was mindful that she had to watch her intake. She did not need a repeat of what had happened last time.

The waitress smiled but placed two glasses on the table. "Your friend sent them over." Rachel looked past the waitress and saw Santana raise a glass in toast from the bar. Apparently she and Brittany had taken a break from dancing.

"Oh, well thank you." Rachel reached into her purse to get a tip but the woman waived her off.

"Your friend took care of it." Rachel nodded her understanding but still dug out a tip and placed it on the waitress's tray. The woman smiled her thanks before turning to leave.

"That was nice of you," Quinn remarked, taking possession of her new drink.

Rachel shrugged it off. "I don't envy her the job, so it's the least I can do. Plus if Santana is paying I can be a bit more generous with the tips." Rachel took a sip of her drink before placing it on the table. "Okay before we go any further you have to promise me something."

Quinn looked at the other girl, slightly startled by the request. "Okay…"she replied a little unsure.

"Santana is likely to keep the drinks flowing pretty freely all night." Quinn nodded her head in understanding. "So if I decided that climbing onto the table and dancing seems like a good idea, please dissuade me of that notion."

Quinn laughed and nodded her head. "You have my word."

Rachel smiled at the laughing blonde. "Thank you Quinn. Now as Santana would say, let's get our drink on."

* * *

**Several hours and countless drinks later…..**

"Do you want to dance?" Rachel asked, leaning toward Quinn, her cheeks flushed and her eyes a bit glassy. She had put Santana's generosity to good use and was feeling little pain at the moment. Alcohol was simply the greatest, and she wasn't sure why she didn't drink more often.

Quinn had also taken advantage of the freely flowing drinks, and nodded her head in assent. "Let's go." Reaching for the brunette's hand she clasped it in hers and pulled the smaller girl out of the booth.

They weaved their way unsteadily through the crowd, giggling softly to each other every time they stumbled and bumped into one another. Rachel wrapped one arm around Quinn's waist to help anchor her and she leaned on the blonde to help keep her upright. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "I seem to be having a bit of a hard time staying upright."

Quinn looked down at the brunette and smiled. "That's okay, glad to be of service."

After arriving at the dance floor it only took Rachel a few moments to realize that she was never going to stay upright without the blonde's assistance. Hoping to appear more sexy then clumsy, she drew the blonde in close and moved around behind her, resting her hands on Quinn's hips.

Leaning in close, she rested her head on the blonde's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Is this okay?"

Quinn felt goose bumps erupt on her neck as Rachel's hot breath washed over the sensitive skin, and nodded. "F-fine. Great in fact," Quinn managed to get out. It had been ages since anyone had held her this close, and it felt heavenly. Bringing her hands down to her hips she clasped Rachel's hands and pulled them more firmly around her, letting the brunette know that she was more than welcome to touch.

Once she had the steadying body of the blonde to keep her upright, Rachel closed her eyes and lost herself in the music. Pulling the blonde's body more snugly against her own she buried her face in Quinn's neck and moved them both to the rhythm.

For her part, Quinn was spending most of her energy making sure her suddenly unsteady knees kept them both off the floor. The feel of Rachel nuzzling into her neck was driving her insane. Suddenly the brunette's hands were on the move, roaming across her sides and torso.

"You smell fantastic," Rachel murmured huskily in her ear, and placing a soft kiss beneath her ear. Quinn shuddered and turned her head to the side, meeting the brunette's hooded gaze. Unable to resist she leaned sideways and closed the small gap that separated them, bringing their lips together.

Rachel groaned into the contact, probing for entry into the blonde's mouth almost immediately. Quinn parted her lips instantly, allowing the brunette's soft, warm tongue access. Leaning back more fully into the brunette's body Quinn brought her right arm up, and placed her hand on the back of Rachel's neck, pulling her closer and making sure couldn't retreat.

Retreat was the last thing on Rachel's mind as she deepened the kiss. She pulled back slightly, earning an unhappy grunt from the blonde. "You taste fantastic too," Rachel said playfully, before diving back in and attacking the blonde's mouth. The kiss was over-eager, clumsy, and a little sloppy but neither girl seemed to notice. Rachel ran her hands restlessly over Quinn's body, seeking skin, but finding no access point's on the blonde's dress. Growling in frustration she pulled back once again. "I want to touch you," she demanded, a slight pout forming on her lips as she plucked at the offending fabric barrier.

Even in her alcohol haze Quinn had enough cognitive faculties left to know that the middle of the dance floor in a crowded club was not the appropriate place to engage in the activity that both she and Rachel were headed towards. Wanting nothing more at the moment then to feel the brunette's hand's gliding across her skin, Quinn nodded her agreement. "We should leave," she said, her voice husky with desire.

Rachel licked her lips, here eye's trained on the blonde's kiss bruised mouth and nodded her head. "Let's go," Rachel agreed impatiently, already turning towards the exit, the blonde's hand firmly grasped in hers.

From a short distance away Santana smirked happily as she watched the pair stumble toward the exit. _I am like the fairy godmother of uptight, undersexed lesbians. They better thank me in the morning. _

"Are they going to be okay?" Brittany asked, slightly worried as she watched Quinn leave with Santana's friend. Santana turned her attention away from the retreating pair and back toward her companion for the evening.

"They'll be fine," Santana reassured the blonde. _Berry wasn't doing her best Coyote Ugly impression so she couldn't have been that drunk._ "Though it looks like the room Rachel and I are sharing just became a bit crowded." Santana smiled seductively at the blonde and leaned in to give her a kiss. "Do you think maybe I can crash with you tonight?"

Brittany returned the kiss, smiling against the Latina's lips. "Absolutely."

Santana grinned; Rachel wasn't the only one that was going to get lucky tonight. "Well in that case I am feeling in dire need of a lie down." Brittany grasped her hand and began leading her off of the dance floor toward the exit.

"I'm sure since Quinn is spending the night elsewhere she won't mind you crashing in her bed." Santana frowned and a pout formed on her lips. _You owe me one Berry._


	3. Chapter 3 - Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas

AN- As always, thanks for the reviews and continued interest.

**Chapter 3: …Doesn't Always Stay in Vegas**

Rachel woke to a pounding in her head and a taste like stale death in her mouth. Whimpering piteously, she burrowed her head deeper into her pillow, desperate to avoid actually starting the day. She remembered very little of what had occurred last night, but judging from the incessant throbbing in her skull, she knew she had copious amounts of alcohol to thank for that.

She recalled Santana bringing her to a club, and introducing her to some blonde woman, and then after that things got a little hazy. Despite her best efforts to avoid it, consciousness was slowly creeping upon her and with it more awareness of her surroundings. It was with some alarm that she finally registered that she wasn't alone in her bed.

Her eyes shot open in shock, only to slam shut in self preservation when the dim light in the room stabbed at her retinas. _Okay breath, there is no need to panic. You were with Santana; she wouldn't have let you do anything stupid. _Of course Santana's idea of stupid, and Rachel's, tended to differ greatly. _Oh God what if it IS Santana. _Rachel's heart began to race as the thought occurred to her. She and Santana had been friends since grade school, and save for one drunken kiss in high school; they had never gotten physical with each other. Rachel shuddered in distaste, it would be practically incestuous.

_Calm down, maybe nothing happened. It is completely possible that you just came back to the room and snuggled. _Rachel bit back the urge to giggle hysterically; Santana Lopez did not snuggle. Bringing her hand up to brush her decidedly tangled and messy hair out of her eyes, she caught scent of a rather distinct smell. _Well there goes that theory. Shit, shit, shit._

Realizing that laying here and having a mini-meltdown really wasn't helping the situation, Rachel resolved to just roll over and confront her bed mate. Surely if it was Santana they would get past it, after all Rachel didn't even really remember it, so it was almost like it didn't happen. Denial definitely suited her.

As she started to shift, the body in bed next to her let out and unhappy grumble and burrowed closer to her, the arm draped over her waist tightening to hold her in place. Rachel let out an involuntary shudder as the person's hot breath blew across the sensitive flesh of her neck. '_The person'…much better to think about them in generic terms, otherwise this is just too creepy. _Creepy or not, there was no denying that the person's touch was having an effect on her traitorous body.

Shifting more slowly, she gently rolled over and eased on to her back. Though the person next to her grumbled again, they didn't wake. The first thing she noticed was the cascade of tangled blonde hair, and she breathed a sigh of relief. _Oh thank god, I really don't know how we would have faced each other. _The relief was quickly followed by the realization that she had no idea who was currently snuggled up to her.

All worries about upsetting her bed mate evaporated and she pushed them away while scrambling out of the bed. The blonde let out a grunt at being so roughly displaced and lifted her head, bringing a hand up to sweep back her tangle of hair.

"What the fuck?" the woman questioned, her voice raspy.

"There is no need for such course language," Rachel scolded, hands coming to rest on her hips. Having a target to focus on, the blonde's face swung in her direction, eyes still squinted against the room's illumination.

Blinking slowly, and smacking her lips in an attempt to get some moisture into her extremely dry mouth, the blonde finally focused her gaze on the brunette. "Do you always give etiquette lessons while naked?" she asked, one eye brow arching.

Rachel looked down at herself and let out a small yelp. "I demand that you avert your gaze," Rachel insisted, trying to cover her nakedness as best as she could with her hands, which was to say, not at all.

"Something tells me I have probably already seen everything you have to offer," the girl returned in a matter of fact tone.

"Be that as it may," Rachel ground out through clenched teeth, "I am not comfortably with you ogling me."

The blonde rolled her eyes and flopped back onto the bed, not having the energy to argue, plus the light still hurt eyes. "Whatever," she muttered, her face now mashed into the pillow.

Seeing that the blonde was no longer looking, Rachel looked around her room; at least she thought it was her room. Spotting her custom made gold star luggage in the corner, she made her way towards it. Quickly riffling through the luggage, which Santana hadn't even given her time to properly unpack, she found her robe and quickly slipped her arms through the sleeves and belted it securely around her waist.

Walking back toward the bed she observed the unmoving lump in the center of her bed. Something about the other woman was vaguely familiar and Rachel wracked her brain trying to place her. Furrowing her eyebrows and tapping her finger against her lips, she rewound the night through her head. Her eyes lit up when it dawned on her. _Of course, the blonde that Santana introduced me to_!

The blonde's identity now determined, Rachel began to play the rest of the events through her mind and a not so pleasant suspicion began to take root. _Oh. My. God. _Walking toward the side of the bed she sharply poked the form in the bed, eliciting another grumble of protest.

"What?" came the muffled query from the sheets.

"Are you a prostitute?" That got a reaction, the blonde head popping up almost instantly.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked frostily, brows drawn sharply together.

Rachel crossed her arms across her stomach defensively. "Well it's just that Santana produced you out of nowhere, then you plied me with alcohol, and now you are naked in my bed. The possibility that you are a paid professional is a high probability." It really wasn't outside of the realm of the probably that Santana would have hired someone to sleep with her so that she would at least get laid. Knowing that Rachel would never willingly go for something like that and she would have had to guise it as something else.

"First of all I did not ply you with alcohol that was your friend."

"That actually just under scores my point."

"Secondly," the blonde continued in a slightly louder voice, ignoring Rachel's interjection, "I'm not the only one that hooked up with a total stranger. Maybe you are the one that's a pro."

"I most certainly am not!" Rachel squawked indignantly.

"Well neither am I!" the other woman retorted hotly.

Rachel frowned, her lips forming a pout. Okay so maybe she wasn't a prostitute, the blonde woman did seem genuinely offended by the suggestion. _Though maybe Santana had told her to do that so I wouldn't be furious with her_. Eyeing the woman suspiciously Rachel decided she would just have to grill the Latina when she saw her next.

Rachel held her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay you're not a prostitute." The blonde glared at her less than convincing delivery. "But that really doesn't change the fact that you need to leave. Now."

The girl's eyebrows rose in incredulity. "You're kicking me out?"

"Well you certainly can't stay here. You're a complete stranger. I don't even know your name!" Rachel cried, borderline hysterically. She knew that she must have gotten the other woman's name at some point, but right now she was drawing a blank. _Damn Santana, and damn alcohol!_

"It's Quinn," the blonde bit out coldly, "_Rachel." _The emphasis that the blonde, that Quinn, put on her name let her know that she was the only one that had managed to forget the others name. _Of course I do tend to make a lasting impression so that does make sense. _

The diva's train of thought was derailed when she saw Quinn throw back the covers and swing her legs over the side of the bed. Rachel swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, as she took in the sight before her. _Well at least Santana has impeccable taste. Though it figures that once I finally hook up with a veritable goddess, I can't remember a bit of it._ Rachel shook her head, _so not the point right now._

Quinn either didn't share her concerns about ogling, or she was just immune to being naked, _another point for the prostitute theory, _since she stood from the bed stark naked and stretched her arms above her head. _Oh dear god. _Feeling more than a little bit like a pervy hypocrite, Rachel reluctantly averted her eyes.

Spotted Quinn's dress crumpled up in a ball by the foot of the bed, she walked over and picked it up. She balled the silky fabric into her hands and walked over to the blonde, who was no longer where she left her.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked crossly.

Quinn stopped and turned around to face the brunette. "Taking a shower."

Rachel bit her lip, reluctantly taking a step closer. "Can't you do that in your room?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Well I could, but I'm going to take one here." The blonde crossed her arms across her chest and Rachel flushed with embarrassment as she realized she had been staring.

"Here," she mumbled, thrusting the garment towards Quinn. "I just thought you would want to, you know, leave." Quinn took the garment from her, shaking it out a bit.

"Oh trust me I do. Shockingly, I don't like to spend time around people that mistake me for a prostitute." Inspecting the garment in her hand Quinn frowned. "I'll need to borrow some clothes."

"What? Why?"

"Because, _someone, _seems to have ripped both of the straps on my dress." Quinn held the garment out for Rachel's inspection. Sure enough, both of the gowns delicate spaghetti straps had been torn clean off, separating them from the bodice of the dress and making it un-wearable.

Rachel flushed again, torn between embarrassment and an odd sort of pride. Quinn caught the look and rolled her eyes.

"I'll just leave you to find something while I take my shower," Quinn said, turning and shutting the door to the bathroom. Rachel was left standing alone in the room, her mouth partly ajar to voice her protest.

* * *

Quinn shut the bathroom door behind her with a click and sagged back against the smooth surface. She had tried to hold it together, using icy disdain to hide the fact that she was quietly freaking out. This was so not the plan for this weekend.

Pushing off of the door, she made her way toward the shower. She figured she better get one in quickly before Rachel decided her time was up and shoved her out into the hallway. Rachel. She remembered the girl's name, but it was the only thing about the previous night that she did remember. Her memory was apparently as hazy as the brunettes.

Pulling the curtain back, she twisted the hot tap to full and added a little cold water just so her skin didn't peel off. Happy with the temperature, she stepped under the pounding spray. She turned her back to the needle sharp jets of water and let out a hiss when it contacted with some tender spots on her back. _Apparently Rachel liked to use her nails. _Quinn really couldn't get too angry; she had noticed a few sizable hickies on the smaller woman's neck. She winced slightly, and hoped she was long gone before the other woman noticed them.

Letting out a sigh, she dipped her head under the spray, letting it run through the tangled mess that was her hair. This is why she had sworn off drinking. She absolutely could not handle her alcohol. Her lips twisted into a sardonic half smile, _well at least this time there is no danger of me getting pregnant._

Reaching for the shampoo bottle she poured a small amount into her palm, working it into a thick lather before scrubbing her hands through her hair. She tried to block all the negative thoughts from her mind and just relax. The pounding in her head was starting to ease somewhat.

Tilting her head back to rinse the suds out, she reflected that it really wasn't that big a deal. Okay, so it wasn't really her style to get drunk and hook up with random people that she met at bars, but it wasn't the end of the world. At least from what little of the previous night she could remember, and her rather over the top reaction this morning, Rachel didn't seem the type to sleep around either.

Grabbing the bath scrunchie, she poured a generous amount of shower gel onto it before scrubbing it vigorously against her skin. While she definitely didn't want to make a habit out of such behavior, it wasn't that surprising that she had gone a little wild. She had had nothing resembling a social life since Libby, and she was due to let off a little steam. _Okay, maybe more than just a little steam._ But it wasn't like she ever had to see Rachel again. She could just put this whole incident behind her and pretend it never happened.

Happy with her decision to erase this temporary lapse from her memory, she turned the water off. She wouldn't have minded staying under the relaxing warmth of the shower a bit longer, but part of her really did think it was only a matter of time before Rachel barged in and forced her out. Grabbing one of the fluffy white towels, she wrapped it around her hair before grabbing a second to wrap around her body.

She scanned the counter top, looking to see if there were any travel toothbrush sets, her mouth was really quite foul. Finding only a bottle of mouth wash she shrugged, not ideal but it was better than nothing. Twisting the cap, she took a healthy swig and then almost choked to death when a piercing scream from the outer room startled her. Spitting the mouthwash quickly into the sink, she hurried over to the door.

Yanking the door open, she saw Rachel perched on the side of the bed, starring in horror at a piece of paper she had clutched in her hands. Quinn frowned; whatever was on the page surely couldn't be so bad as to warrant that murder victim like scream.

"You scared the crap out of me," Quinn scolded, her heart still racing. "What is so horrifying?" Rachel only continued to just stare blankly at the paper in front of her. "Did we go a little nuts and hit up room service or something? I'll help you pay the bill." _Though god knows how, hotel prices were always insane. _When the brunette still failed to respond Quinn swallowed nervously. _God just how crazy did we go? _

Walking to the bed, Quinn reached for the paper and easily removed it from the brunette's nerveless fingers. She blinked uncomprehendingly at the words 'Certificate of Marriage' scrawled across the page. She blinked again, hoping that she was simply hallucinating. _Nope. Shit._ Her eyes scanned the rest of the page, hoping against hope that her own name wouldn't appear on the document. _Double shit. _

"We're _married?" _she shouted, on the verge of hyperventilating. This was so beyond fucked up. Was she like the _only _person in the world that couldn't drink without catastrophically altering her life?

The shout finally seemed to get the brunette to snap out of her trance. "Apparently."

Quinn blinked, expecting a much longer response. Her heart was still hammering away, and she could feel a cold sense of dread swirling in her stomach. "How could you let this happen?" she cried accusingly, glaring at the brunette.

"Me?" Rachel cried defensively, a hand coming up to rest on her chest. "What about you?"

Quinn's mind raced. There had to be an easy way out of this. "Is this even legal?" she asked hopefully.

Rachel frowned. "Of course it's legal," she replied in a condescending tone.

"Since when?" Quinn asked desperately.

Rachel frowned more deeply and huffed, "Since about a year ago. How could you have missed the high court's ruling on the fourteenth amendment? It was only the most landmark cases for gay rights since Lawrence vs. Texas." Rachel eyed the shell shocked blonde suspiciously. Her hooker theory was looking more and more likely, I mean what self respecting gay person didn't know that.

Quinn nodded dumbly. Okay she was a bad gay, but she had other things on her mind. Taking care of Libby and work occupied almost all her time, she didn't really have time to watch the news, or read papers. _It figures that even something as great as marriage equality would find a way to bite me in the ass. I am so cursed!_

Pushing her fatalistic thoughts to the side, Quinn looked into the brunette's eyes. "Well that's okay, I mean we can just go get it annulled or something right? If it's this easy to get married it must be just as easy to get divorced."

Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. "It's Sunday, I doubt even this paperwork has been filed with the clerk's office yet. We would have to wait until at least Monday."

Quinn bit back a curse. She couldn't stay here until Monday, her flight left this afternoon, and besides not being able to change the ticket, she also couldn't afford to miss any work. "I can't stay here until Monday, I have to get home," Quinn replied desperately.

"Me too," Rachel replied, nodding her head in agreement. While she could technically extend her stay, her mood toward this horrible city had soured and she was more than ready to leave and never come back. What kind of place lets two drunken strangers get married? It was madness.

Rachel took a deep breath. "Okay, here's what we do. You are going to get dressed, and then we will find Santana. Since this is all her fault she can find a way to fix it." Quinn nodded her head in agreement. That sounded good, because at the moment she was drawing a complete and total blank on how to get herself out of this situation.

* * *

The pair rode the elevator to the lobby in tense silence. After getting in touch with Santana and ordering her to meet them in one of the hotel's restaurant in twenty minutes, they had studiously avoided each other. In one minor stroke of good luck, they discovered that they were staying in adjacent hotels, so at least they didn't have to wait long for Santana to meet them. Another bit of good luck was that Rachel had packed her workout gear, and while yoga pants and a tank top weren't her first choice, at least the clothing more or less fit Quinn.

The elevator dinged its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slid open to reveal the hotel's casino. They quickly made their way through the gaming floor, eager to put the bright flashing lights and noisy machines behind them. Stepping into the shopping area of the hotel, Rachel wasted little time plowing through the crowds toward her destination.

Spotting the restaurant they had told Santana to meet them at, they cut across the concourse. Quinn trailed behind the determined brunette, not wanting to get in her way for fear of being mowed down. The woman was clearly on a mission, and she didn't really envy Santana at the moment. _Though after what she set in motion last night, I don't really feel all that much sympathy. _

The eatery was fairly deserted this early in the day and it was easy to find the Latina in the almost empty room. Quinn frowned mightily when she saw that Brittany was sitting next to the brunette.

"Well, well, well. I wondered when you two would finally surface for air," the Latina taunted, a satisfied smirk twisting her full lips. "Have a good night."

Rachel pulled out a chair at the four seat table and slammed herself down with a huff. "I wouldn't know Santana," Rachel spat out, glaring daggers at her friend. "I don't seem to be able to remember much of it."

Santana laughed. "Oh my god Berry only you could manage to have sex and then not remember it." She paused and looked back and forth between the two. "You did have sex right? I mean judging from those marks on your neck I would say yes…"

Rachel gasped and brought her hand up to her neck, covering the area that Santana was pointing to. She turned in her seat to glare at Quinn. "You marked me?" she questioned sharply.

Quinn winced, when she hadn't been yelled at after the brunette's shower she thought she was off the hook, figuring the woman would have to have seen them in the mirror. "I thought you saw them."

"I most certainly did not," Rachel grumbled, pulling the collar of her shirt more tightly against her neck.

Santana snickered. "How did you manage to overlook those suckers, they're huge." It was Quinn's turn to glare daggers at the teasing brunette. The last thing she needed was for her to rile Rachel up even more.

Rachel sniffed indignantly. "I was a bit _preoccupied_ when I was rather hastily getting ready," she defended.

Santana wiggled her eyebrows. "Oh were you now?"

"Not that kind of distracted you puerile adolescent," Rachel snipped.

"Take a pill Rach, so you had a drunken one night stand, everybody does it, it's not the end of the world."

"Not _everyone_ does it Santana. Just because it is your _raison d'être_ doesn't mean the rest of us make a habit of it."

Quinn finally broke into the conversation. "Did the two of you hook up?" she asked, the question directed at Brittany, not liking the idea of her gentle friend being just another notch in the Latina's belt.

Brittany shook her head. "She stayed in the room, but she crashed in your bed. I figured when you two left you wouldn't be in need of it," the blonde teased her friend gently.

Rachel looked across the table accusingly. "You saw us leave?" Both heads nodded in the affirmative. "And you didn't stop us?" Rachel asked shrilly. She directed her fiery gaze to her supposed best friend. "You said you would look out for me, and not let me do anything stupid."

Santana rolled her eyes at the dramatic outburst. "I was looking out for you. You needed to get laid, so I got you laid. You should be thanking me."

Oh, that reminded her. "Is she a prostitute?"

"Oh my god!" Quinn yelled indignantly, "I thought we cleared that up already."

Rachel looked at the now upset blonde with a slightly contrite expression. "Well you can hardly blame me with the way she's talking."

Quinn narrowed her eyes at the shorter brunette. "Oh I can blame you all right."

Santana snickered. "No she's not a prostitute, but with morning after talk like that I can see why you don't get laid very often."

Rachel diverted her attention back to the smug Latina. "You have no idea what you have done," she spat accusingly.

"Um yeah I do, we just covered this, I got you laid. I really don't see what the problem is."

Rachel reached into her hand bag and grabbed the piece of paper that had totally destroyed her morning. Slamming it onto the table, she glared at her friend. "We're _married!"_

Santana blinked a few times, before reaching towards the piece of paper in the middle of the table. Glancing over the document quickly she placed it back on the table. Rachel drummed her fingers impatiently, dying to know what her friend's response to _this _would be.

When Santana burst into hysterical laughter Rachel was not impressed. Scowling ferociously she snatched the paper back up and put it back in her purse. "You're laughing? I just inform you that my life is _ruined_ and your response is to laugh?"

Santana bobbed her head since she was still laughing too hard to speak. Wiping the tears from her eyes she finally managed to calm herself enough to respond. "Only you would manage to turn a one night stand into a life-long commitment. You really can't do casual sex can you?" The question asked, Santana lost it again, and started laughing loudly.

While Rachel glared menacingly at her cackling friend, Brittany looked across the table and met Quinn's eyes. "Is it true?" she questioned with no small amount of shock. It wasn't like Quinn to do something so rash.

Quinn nodded glumly. "Apparently so. I mean the paper looks legal."

Brittany opened her mouth, and the quickly closed it, at a loss for words. Finally she managed to ask, "But …how?"

Quinn shook her head. "I have no idea. I mean I remember going to the club, and meeting Rachel, and drinking, but after that it just goes kinda fuzzy. I am never drinking again," the blonde vowed vehemently.

Brittany bit her lip guiltily. "I'm sorry Quinn, this is so not what I had intended when I brought you here this weekend."

Quinn waved off the apology. "I'm a grown woman Brit, the blame for this rests on me. Well us." She gestured between herself and Rachel.

Rachel apparently did not share the belief that this was all her fault. "This is all your fault Santana, and so help me if you do not stop laughing I am going to stab you with this knife." Rachel wasn't usually a violent person, but her friend's less than sympathetic response, coupled with the remnants of her hangover were not a combination for pacifism.

Santana finally managed to get her laughing under wraps and held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay I'm sorry, but you have to admit that it's funny." The continued death stare made it clear that Rachel had to admit to no such thing. "It's fine. You guys will get a divorce on Monday and it will be done. See problem solved, no harm done."

Rachel scowled at her friend's glib response. "Except that Quinn can't extend her stay. Furthermore, I will now be a divorcee, how is that going to look Santana? My image will be forever tarnished. This is a disaster."

Santana rolled her eyes. "It's not a disaster. I mean sure it will probably make a minor splash in the trades, but people will soon forget. You worry too much."

Quinn frowned and leaned forward, looking between the two brunettes in confusion. "Why would anyone care?"

Santana looked at Quinn in surprise. "You mean she managed to have a conversation with you and _not _mention that she was a Broadway singer at least a million times." Santana turned her head to smile at her friend. "I'm shocked and amazed."

"Well I do have missing bits about last night," Quinn confessed, earning a glower from the petite brunette. "So you're like famous?" Quinn asked with growing concern.

Rachel nodded, while Santana shook her head slightly, earning another glare. "Well you're not!" The Latina defended herself. "Yet." That seemed to appease the singer somewhat. "She is on the cusp. Not well known enough to make the front page of the _Times_, but certainly she has enough buzz to have it mentioned in the trade journals, and it might make page six on a slow day."

Quinn swallowed; she had forgotten that Rachel told her she lived in New York.

Santana looked at Quinn. "So you really can't stay?" The blonde shook her head. "Well that makes it a little more difficult, since I think just staying put would get us the quickest result but it's not crucial. We can just take care of this long distance." She looked pointedly at the still frowning brunette. "See? Problem solved." Santana sat back with a satisfied smile on her face, everyone worried too much.

"Quinn what about Libby?" Brittany had been listening to the conversation, quietly taking in all the details. At the question, Quinn felt all the blood drain from her face. She hadn't really given any thought to how this would affect things with her daughter.

Rachel turned sideways and looked at Quinn sharply. "Libby? Oh my god, are you already married?"

Quinn snapped attention to the side to glare at the accusing brunette. "What? No. I didn't even know it was legal remember?"

Rachel frowned slightly before nodding her head. "Oh yeah. Well who's Libby then?"

Quinn released her breath in a heavy sigh. "My daughter."

Santana raised her eyebrows at the news, not really expecting this turn, but also not seeing why it mattered. "How does your daughter factor into this?"

Quinn closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She really didn't want to get into this with a couple of strangers, but she supposed that since she was legally bound to one of them, she didn't have much of a choice. "Normally it wouldn't, but since I am in the midst of a bitter custody battle, any little thing is cannon fodder. And something tells me that a quickie marriage and divorce is going to seem more like a nuclear warhead."

"Custody battle? I thought you said you weren't married," Rachel said accusingly.

Quinn opened her eyes and looked at the other woman. "I'm not. My parents are the ones suing for custody." She laughed humorlessly. "They think I'm and unfit mother."

"Well they may have a point," Rachel muttered, earning a heated glare from Quinn and a smack from Santana. "What? I mean drunken one night stands and Vegas nuptials are hardly the things that most responsible parents would do," Rachel insisted.

Quinn gritted her teeth. "If you must know, they think I'm unfit because I'm _gay."_

Rachel straightened in her seat. "Well that's not right," she retorted indignantly. "Gay people are more than capable of being loving, supportive, fabulous parents."

Quinn nodded her head. "Yeah I know. Now I just have to convince a judge. Which is going to be even harder now," she uttered in defeat.

Santana suddenly snapped her fingers, leaning forward with an overly broad grin on her face. "I've got it!" she cried in triumph. "The perfect solution. Instead of getting a divorce, you two stay married."

Rachel looked at Quinn briefly before turning to glare at her clearly mad friend. "Are you insane?" she hissed. "How does that solve anything?"

Santana waved her hand, indicating for the other girl not to interrupt. "Think about it. You two stay married, Quinn gets to keep her kid, and you finally get the coverage you deserve."

Rachel blinked; maybe the alcohol was still clouding her ability to think. "I don't follow." She looked at Quinn and was happy to realize she wasn't the only one that didn't have a clue what the Latina was talking about.

Santana rolled her eyes. "If you and Quinn stay married, she gets to present not a single mom, but a two parent household. I hardly think there are many judges that would argue with that, and if they did I'm sure you wouldn't hesitate to bring in your contacts at the ACLU." Santana played on the brunette's weak spot, knowing that any type of injustice against gay people got her fired up, but nothing more so than injustices against gay parents.

"Damn right," Rachel muttered, already shuffling through the contacts she had, trying to determine which one would be her best resource. Rachel shook her head, "Wait. I still fail to see how this helps me."

Santana raised her eyebrows. "Well if you would let me continue. Besides righting a horrible social injustice, you would be able to use this to garner quite a bit of publicity for yourself. A quickie divorce would make a blip, but would quickly fade from memory. If you stayed married however, you could drag Quinn to events and, let's face it, she is way more attractive then Jesse and is bound to draw the photographers attention."

Rachel frowned, not quite buying the explanation. "That seems like a bit of a stretch Santana. Jesse wasn't exactly hideous, and the two of us were hardly followed around."

"That's because the two of you were dull as dishwater. After I spin the story of a true love that you had to keep hidden the tabloids will eat it right up," Santana replied confidently.

"So you're going to make up a bunch of sensationalistic lies," Rachel concluded dourly. "My talent should be enough Santana; I shouldn't have to resort to such sordid measures to gain notoriety."

"That's show biz kid." Santana shrugged, "And they won't be lies, more like artistic interpretations of actual events."

"They would have to be pretty liberal interpretations considering the reality," Quinn interjected. "Besides if Rachel just broke up with her girlfriend, doesn't that make her look a bit like a cheater? Having an adulterous affair is hardly going to help my chances at gaining custody."

Rachel scowled and shot an accusing glare at Santana, she hadn't really thought of that. "Relax. First of all quite a few people thought you and Jesse were little more than friends. You two didn't exactly set the town on fire with your unbridled chemistry." Rachel made a grunting sound of displeasure at this revelation. "Secondly, the story of her own casting couch escapade is all over the place, so it won't take much to spin you as the victim."

Rachel shook her head. "This is completely insane."

Quinn nodded her head. "I agree, this is completely nuts."

Santana looked back and forth between the two. "Do you two have any better ideas?" Rachel bit her lip. She really wanted to get her big break, and if Santana thought this could help, she was willing to consider it; she trusted Santana implicitly. _Though after last night I may want to reevaluate that stance. _Plus she was going to be a divorcee anyway, what did it matter if it happened now, or a few months from now. She scowled to herself, and after this latest disaster it wasn't like she planned on dating anytime soon, so having a fake wife wasn't going to be a hardship. _Oh god, I'm seriously considering this. _

Quinn was similarly conflicted. This had to be the stupidest idea ever. Well second stupidest, first place definitely belonged to the whole drunken marriage thing_._ A divorce would be catastrophic to her custody battle. Rachel, while undeniably high strung, and more than a little irritating, didn't seem to be the axe murdering type.

"I can't believe I am considering this," she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You are?" Santana asked happily.

"You are?" Rachel questioned in disbelief.

Quinn nodded her head. "I'm still not positive this doesn't make me clinically insane, but if you honestly think this will help my chances with Libby, I really don't have anything to lose." Santana nodded her head to the rhetorical question. She would make sure that both women got something out of this deal.

"So you want to do this?" Rachel asked, still a bit disbelieving at the turn this conversation had taken.

Quinn nodded her head. "I do." She held up one finger. "On one condition. Well, I'm sure there will be more than one condition, but this is the first." Rachel swallowed nervously, but nodded her head. "You have _got_ to stop calling me a hooker."

Rachel flushed in embarrassment and nodded her head. "So we're doing this?" Quinn nodded her head. Rachel frowned, just thinking of something. "Wait. Where do you even live? I mean this isn't going to be all that convincing if we live hundreds, or thousands of miles apart."

Santana waived off the concern. "Oh they live in New York too, didn't Quinn mention that?" Rachel shook her head in reply, any conversation from the previous evening still lost to her. "See it was meant to be," Santana concluded happily.

"So you are both in?" The two women looked at each other. Surely a lot of details remained to be ironed out, but they were both committed in theory. Somewhat hesitantly they nodded their heads, not breaking eye contact with each other.

"Excellent," Santana decreed, rubbing her hands together happily.


	4. Chapter 4 - Moving On Up

**AN - Sorry for the delay - the spring thaw decided it wanted to make its home in my basement and it put me a bit behind schedule.**

**To all those that have reviewed - Thanks as always.**

**Chapter 4: Moving On Up  
**

* * *

Quinn sat gingerly on the side of the bed, as though she were being extra careful not to break anything, and looked at the room around her. What had once been a perfectly lovely guest room now resembled a storage container. Boxes and trash bags, she didn't have any luggage or duffels to put her clothes in, were stacked haphazardly around the room.

She hadn't wanted to take too much at first, but after Brittany had pointed out that even if the custody trial was fast tracked she was likely looking at the minimum six months, she had reluctantly packed everything. She needn't have worried about over packing; even everything she and Libby owned had been a depressingly small amount.

Taking in the tattered boxes and black trash bags that contained the sum total of her existence, she couldn't help but note the stark contrast to their surroundings. Quinn knew that her and Brittany's apartment wasn't the nicest place around, but they had both sacrificed square footage for a cleaner and safer space. Compared to Rachel's apartment theirs looked like a crack den.

Hearing a soft tapping on the door to "her" bedroom she called out for whoever was there to come in. She smiled when Brittany poked her head into the room.

"Hey," she greeted softly, motioning her friend to come further in to the room. Brittany accepted the invitation and closed the door behind her.

"How you holding up?"

Quinn took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair. "It's all just so surreal, you know? I mean a week ago I was just trying to figure out how I was going to make it through the next month until Libby comes back, and now I'm moving into a total stranger's apartment and preparing to go through with a fake marriage."

Brittany sat down on the bed beside Quinn. "It is a lot to take in. Having regrets?"

Quinn bit out a short, sharp laugh. "Of course, but every time I go over the situation, this insanely, seems to be the solution that makes the most sense."

Brittany sent her friend a small, reassuring smile. "You know that if you change your mind, your room will be there waiting for you."

"About that." Quinn fidgeted nervously with her fingers, picking at her ragged cuticle. "I don't know if Rachel is going to want me to pay some kind of rent here. If she does, I'm still not sure of how I am going to be able to pay my half of the rent at our place."

"We'll figure it out Quinn, the room will be there waiting for you and Libby when you need it."

Quinn shook her head. "If I can't pay for it, you have to either rent it out or look for another room mate. It's not fair for you to have to pay the full rent on an apartment you are only in because of me and Libby."

"Okay Quinn, however you want to handle it." Brittany wanted to protest further, but knew that once Quinn got in to one of her stubborn moods there was no reasoning with her. "I actually came in here to see if you were ready to hash out the final details with Rachel and Santana. Santana has some paperwork she wants you to look at and sign."

Quinn drew in a steadying breath and pushed herself up from the bed. "Might as well get it over with."

* * *

Rachel paced back and forth across the width of the dining room, too keyed up to sit still. Swiveling her head to glance down the hallway that led to the bedrooms, she turned to face Santana, who didn't seem to share her case of the nerves. She was sitting at the dining room table, drumming her fingers impatiently on top of a stack of papers.

"What do you think she's doing in there?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think she likes the room?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe I should have put her in the other room," Rachel mused aloud as she started pacing again. "But that one has the attached bath so I figured it would make more sense. Or maybe she would rather have Libby in that room. Although having a toddler in a room next to a bathroom isn't safe." Rachel stopped pacing, and bit her lower lip. "Do you think the whole apartment is safe?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe I should call one of those baby proofing places."

Santana had finally had enough. "Maybe you should sit down and chill out before I duct tape you to that chair."

Rachel spun to face her friend, hands on her hips, a look of outrage on her face. "Well pardon me for being nervous at the prospect of a _total stranger _moving in to my home Santana. Not all of us are used to having strangers traipsing about and touching our stuff."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Usually I go to their place."

Rachel sent her friend a withering glare. "So not the point!" Not able to stand the inaction any longer Rachel resumed her pacing. "She could be messy, or loud, or leave her dirty clothes all over the bathroom."

"You have your own bathroom, and you have a maid."

"Santana you aren't taking this seriously! She could be a pervert or a serial killer, or, or…or a Republican!" Rachel finally cried her face paling at the prospect.

Santana stood up from her seat and walked over to Rachel. She grabbed the girl's shoulders and led her over to the table and forcibly pushed her down onto one of the chairs. "Now you're just being crazy," Santana paused briefly, "Well more crazy than usual. I'm sure that if Quinn were a serial killer, Brittany would have met an untimely end long before now."

"Maybe they're in on it together. You know, partners in crime! They go to clubs and lure poor unsuspecting women back to their apartment to kill and dismember them," Rachel cried triumphantly.

"You do realize that both of us have slept in the same room with the alleged mass murders and we're still here?"

"Actually I'm not sure how much we actually slept. Plus it isn't like I got out of that encounter without a few scrapes and bruises."

Santana glowered. "Yes well some of us actually _did_ sleep, and Berry if you're doing it right, it should leave a few marks."

Rachel sighed, her shoulders heaving under the force of the breath. "Okay, maybe she's not a serial killer. She could still be a Republican though."

Santana roller her eyes and sat back down at the table. "Yes, and if she is I am sure you will find some way to survive the horror."

"It's not funny Santana, you aren't the one that has to live with her."

"Well that's because I can actually have a drunken one night stand and not get married. I guess we will have to work on that a bit after this whole thing blows over. Practice makes perfect after all."

Rachel glared at her friend, not in the least bit amused. "I can assure you after this debacle, I will not be taking any more of your relationship advice."

"If you had taken my advice to begin with, and dumped that horrid harpy when I first told you to, maybe you wouldn't have been so sexually frustrated that you married the first woman that gave you a second look."

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I just don't know how I am going to pull this off. I don't even know this woman and now I am supposed to act like we are deeply and madly in love."

Santana looked at Rachel with a look of disbelief on her face. "Seriously?"

"What?" Rachel questioned, not understanding the Latina's skepticism.

"Rachel you're an actress for fucks sake, this should be as easy as breathing to you."

Rachel flushed slightly in embarrassment. "This is different."

"I really don't see how. You pretend to be in love with people all the time on stage. Just pretend this is another role and you should be good."

"I don't improvise a role Santana, I have lines, directions, guidance."

Santana waved off the concern. "We'll figure something out. You worry too much. You have been acting all your life, can't you just channel one of your many roles. There has to be something in your repertoire of musical theater that has some epic love affair or something."

"Your deep knowledge of my craft is truly heartwarming," Rachel remarked archly. Before she could launch in to a lecture about how much time and preparation went in to each one of her roles, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway distracted her.

Her gaze swung instantly to the entryway, finally having something to focus all of her nervous energy on. It had been a little over 72 hours since they had arrived home from Vegas and Santana hadn't wanted to waste any time putting her master plan in to action.

She had quickly arranged for Quinn to pack up all of her belongings and move in. Rachel thought that the speedy relocation was probably for the best, if she had had too much time to think about what she was doing she was sure she would have changed her mind.

"Was the room to your satisfaction?" Rachel blurted as soon as the blonde appeared.

Quinn's eyes darted to the petite brunette and she nodded her head. "Yeah, it's great." Quinn couldn't imagine how anyone could find fault with the plush guest room.

"Do you have more boxes to bring over?" Rachel asked curiously. She had watched as Quinn and Brittany trailed through the apartment, lugging boxes and bags. She had offered to help, or more accurately to pay one of the buildings maintenance men to help, but Quinn had declined the offer.

Quinn flushed lightly before averting her eyes. She frowned when she noticed that the once white leather of her sneakers was already cracked and starting to yellow. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably and cleared her throat. "No, that's everything I planned on bringing over." There was no reason to tell Rachel that it was also everything she owned.

Rachel looked surprised by the announcement. She was sure that she had packed more for a weeklong vacation to London. "Well if you decide that you need to bring more over feel free. I'm sure we'll find the room."

Quinn resisted the urge to laugh. The apartment was spacious enough that Rachel probably wouldn't even notice if she brought in everything she owned four times over. "Thanks."

Quinn tore her gaze away from Rachel to look at the impatiently waiting Latina. "Brittany said you had some papers for me to look at?" Quinn tucked her hair behind her ear, needing something to do with the nervous energy that was building.

Santana stopped drumming her fingers and nodded. "Just a few legal documents to make sure everyone's interests are protected." Quinn eyed the stack of paper under the Latina's hand; it certainly looked like more than a few. "I'm sure you understand."

Quinn felt the other woman's eyes boring into her; no doubt looking for any sign of hesitation on her part. She was sure if she refused to sign whatever documents Santana had drawn up she would find herself outside the apartment with all her belongings before she could blink.

Quinn pulled out a chair and took a seat. "Of course."

Santana held her gaze a little longer before nodding her head. "Good." Santana had concocted this scheme, but that didn't mean she was going to let the little diva be taken advantage of. For someone that had been born and raised in New York she could still be alarmingly naïve about some things.

Santana pulled the first document off the stack. "This is pretty straight forward, it's a post-nuptial agreement and it basically says that anything you entered into the marriage with is all you can leave with." Quinn nodded her head in understanding. After seeing Rachel's apartment it was clear the woman had substantially more assets than she did.

"It also states that neither of you will make any claim to any past, current, or future earnings." Quinn could once again feel the Latina's eyes boring into her; this was clearly the crux of this whole process. Santana wanted to protect Rachel's future, not wanting to allow one drunken mistake to ruin her life.

Quinn met the other woman's eyes levelly. "Where do I sign?"

Santana held her gaze, something akin to approval, or maybe respect flashing through her eyes before she slid the document and a pen across the table. Santana silently pointed to the spots awaiting Quinn's signature, and she noticed that Rachel had already signed.

Pushing the document back across the table Quinn sat back in her chair. "What next?"

"You're being awfully trusting," Santana said instead of answering the question. "How do you know I didn't just have you sign away all _your_ assets?"

Quinn bit out a humorless laugh. "As I'm sure you know by now there aren't any assets." Santana met her gaze unflinchingly, not in the last bit abashed by the implication.

Rachel looked between the two in confusion. "What is she talking about?"

"She had me investigated," Quinn answered before the Latina could.

Rachel swung her gaze to glare at her friend. "Is that true?"

Santana sat there looking unperturbed. "Of course it's true. Did you really think I was going to let you move in with someone, let alone stay married to them if I hadn't checked them out?"

Rachel looked outraged. "And you sat there and let me worry that she might be a pervert or a serial killer?"

Quinn, who had been a little warmed by Rachel's apparent defense, scowled. "I'm glad to see you continue to hold me in only the highest of regard."

Rachel turned her attention to Quinn, having the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Well in all honesty, I had almost completely eliminated the possibility of you being a serial killer."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "That just makes me feel so much better."

"Can you two work this out later? I want to get these papers signed and the details worked out, some of us have better things to do today," Santana interrupted, knowing that Rachel could keep a verbal volley going for hours.

"Sounds good to me," Quinn replied. "I would like to get some of my stuff unpacked before I have to work tonight." She was hoping that it would occupy all her time before going to the diner. The less time she had to spend around the brunette trying to make awkward small talk the better.

Santana took another piece of paper off the stack and pushed it toward Quinn. "This one is a confidentiality clause saying that you will not speak, relay or otherwise tell anyone about your time with Rachel, or the circumstances of it, to the press."

Quinn looked down at the paper and frowned. "Why would I do that? It would almost guarantee that I would lose Libby."

"Sure it would…now. But what about in a few years from now when the custody issue has settled and Rachel has finally hit the big time and you decide you need a little cash?"

Quinn looked up from the paper and glared at Santana. "I'm not doing this for the money."

Santana smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "Then you shouldn't have any problem signing the form."

Quinn grabbed the pen and angrily scrawled her name across the bottom of the page. "I don't," she insisted, pushing the signed contract roughly across the table. "I am just sick and tired of you and your friend implying that I am some kind of slutty, opportunistic, money hungry, mass murderer!"

Santana shrugged. "It's nothing personal; I just need to make sure all the bases are covered." She slid the paper towards Brittany. "You too."

Quinn reached out and put her hand on the paper before Brittany could pick up the pen. "She doesn't have anything to do with this, why does she need to sign?"

"Because she was there, and she's one of four people that know the truth. So she signs." Santana sent Brittany an almost apologetic smile, belying her abrupt words.

"And if she doesn't?" Quinn challenged. She wasn't sure why she was picking this point to object over, it wasn't like Brittany was going to talk anyway, but something in her rebelled at the idea of her friend being drawn into this mess.

Santana sat back in her chair. "Then this meeting is over. I will call a moving company and have your belongings delivered to the location of your choosing." Santana smiled. "And since you so obligingly already signed the post-nup, divorce papers will be served tomorrow."

Brittany brushed Quinn's hand off the page and quickly signed her name before Quinn could protest further. "It's fine," she reassured her friend, "I don't mind Quinn. If it helps make sure you get to keep Libby, then I'll do whatever."

"It's not the point Britt," Quinn grumbled. "You shouldn't have to be dragged into this. It's my problem."

Santana rolled her eyes. "You act like I made her sign away her first born; it's just a fairly standard confidentiality clause." Santana gathered up all the signed documents and slipped them in to a folder "Okay now that the boring stuff is out of the way we can finally get to the fun stuff."

"The fun stuff?" Quinn questioned dubiously.

Santana smiled. "The terms of your agreement of course."

Rachel let out an exasperated breath. "Santana loves to argue, this may take a while."

"It's not arguing, it's negotiating," Santana insisted.

"You call it negotiating, I call it arguing."

"Whatever." Santana directed her attention to Quinn. "We have already established what each of you is going to get out of this in the general sense, but what we need to do is clearly define the expectations and requirements of each of you in meeting those ends."

Quinn nodded her head slowly. Having a clearly defined set of rules to govern this rather unique situation certainly seemed like a good idea to her. "I'm listening."

"Well the end goal is to get you custody of your daughter, and to get Rachel thrust in to the public eye so she can finally get the big break she has been looking for and catapult her to Broadway super-stardom.

For the most part, both of those goals are going to be greatly served by making you two appear as legitimate a couple as possible, hence the move. If your parents are as determined as you say it's almost guaranteed they will be checking up on you when word of your marriage hits.

Living together will help, but it's not going to be enough on its own. You will need to be seen out in public with Rachel, definitely at theater events, but also on more casual outings to make it not seem suspicious."

Quinn nodded her head. "That makes sense. How many of these theater outings do you think I would need to go on?" Quinn was a little worried about her schedule. When Libby came back from Ohio her free time was going to be roughly zero and she wasn't sure how she was going to fit this in to her already packed days, especially now that she wouldn't have Brittany around to help out with Libby.

"How does no more than two a month sound?"

Quinn did a quick calculation. With missed work, and babysitting it would be cutting it close, but she was pretty sure her budget could afford that. "Two sounds fine."

Santana jotted the information down on a legal pad. "You really aren't going to have to do much more then show up and look pretty. Once you show up at a few of these obligations, word will spread and the gossips should do our work for us. Just act adoring and in love and you two should be golden, all we really need is for Rachel to get a buzz around her."

"I still don't like that we have to resort to such tawdry tactics. My voice is superb and I put in more work than any of the other singers I know," Rachel pouted.

Santana rolled her eyes. "We've been over this. Your voice is still going to be what gets you the parts Rachel, this thing with Quinn is just going to be the thing that sets you apart from the pack and gets you to make a unique first impression. Plus, if producers think they can sell your personal life to boost buzz about the show it can't hurt."

"I still don't like it."

"Noted. Now moving along. If all goes to plan, once we get the ball rolling, Rachel's little PR machine should be pretty self sustaining, which leaves us with custody.

Rachel has numerous contacts at the ACLU office here in New York as well as a number of other ties to the New York legal community, and she is willing to call in any and all favors that she can to help secure custody of Libby. Do you currently have a lawyer?"

Quinn shook her head. "No, I had to get someone from legal aid to take my case the first time." Santana grimaced and Quinn nodded her head. "My thoughts exactly. I was going to work extra shifts while Libby was away to save up enough money to hire someone."

Santana shared a quick look with Rachel who hesitated slightly, before shaking her head no. Santana frowned briefly but didn't say anything and turned to face Quinn. "Well hold that thought, I will put out some feelers and see if we can pull in a favor."

"I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to afford yet."

Santana waived off the concern. "That's why it's called a favor. I'll check around in the next few days and if I can't locate anyone to take the case you can go ahead with your plan to hire someone."

Quinn smiled her thanks. Though the Latina had said they would help with the legal aspects of the case, Quinn had figured it would end up being more a matter of them not outing the marriage as a sham. For them to actually follow through on that promise of legal aid meant a lot.

"Now that the obligations have been more or less determined, we need to iron out some of the expectations." Santana steepled her fingers and looked back and forth between the two. "Which brings us to the subject of sex."

"Excuse me?" Rachel squeaked out.

"What?" Quinn questioned at the same time.

Santana just sat in her chair, a Cheshire cat smile on her face. "Well you two are going to be shacking up for probably the better part of a year. You don't think the topic warrants just a little conversation?"

"I don't see how it is relevant to this discussion." Rachel insisted firmly.

"I agree," Quinn chimed in.

Santana rolled her eyes. "You guys are going to have to pretend to be happily and blissfully in love. In order to pull that off you are going to probably not want to be caught sleeping with other people."

"Thank you for that Santana, I never would have been able to figure that out for myself," Rachel retorted bitingly.

"I just think it's important to get it out in the open. If either one of you thinks it will be a problem to adhere to that condition, now would be the time to speak up. The last thing we need is for this whole scheme to come tumbling down because of a sex scandal."

"I am perfectly fine with it," Rachel responded almost immediately.

"There's a surprise," Santana replied sarcastically, ignoring the daggers sent her way from the glowering diva.

Quinn flushed in embarrassment, not quite believing that she was having this conversation. "Yeah I'm fine with it too."

Santana eyed her closely. "Are you sure?"

Quinn met her gaze with a glare. "Yes, I'm sure."

"God it figures that Rachel would find the only other person on the plant as sexless as she is." Rachel opened her mouth to refute the statement but Santana continued on before she could get a word out. "Well since you two are fine with not having sex who am I to argue?" Not waiting for an answer to her rhetorical question Santana pushed on. "All that really leaves is the dissolution of the contract. Rachel's goal is a little bit hard to gauge, so I think we should determine the end date based on the custody issue.

If you lose custody then the term of the contract will be considered filled and you will be free to go. I figure I can spin the loss of the kid as being too big an issue for you two to get through. The sympathy vote won't hurt."

Quinn could feel her blood start to boil at such a glib dismissal of the potential loss of her daughter. She opened her mouth to give Santana a verbal slap down but she was beaten to the punch by Rachel.

"Santana! That comment was completely insensitive. Apologize!"

"Sorry," Santana said begrudgingly, noticing Brittany was also frowning at her. "I just meant that if for some reason the custody issue goes against us, that we won't hold you to anything further."

Quinn was still simmering with anger. "But it's not going to go against us right?"

Rachel nodded her head. "Right." Rachel sent Santana a narrow eyed glare, silently telling her to agree. Santana sighed but nodded her head.

"We still need an exit strategy for after custody is determined. If the judge awards," Rachel sent Santana another glare, "When. When the judge awards you custody, you won't be able to move out the next day and file for divorce without raising all sorts of red flags."

Quinn bit her lip and looked to Brittany, silently asking for her opinion. Quinn hadn't really thought much past making sure a judge ruled in her favor. Santana did have a valid point though. "Six months?" It came out more like a question then a suggestion.

Santana thought it over for a moment before nodding and jotting it down. "I'll go with six months and add a stipulation that all parties will reevaluate at that point and determine if another six month extension is needed." Santana looked to Rachel to see if that provision met with her approval and the smaller brunette simply nodded her head.

Santana sat back in her seat and tossed her pen down on to her legal pad. "Well I think that just about covers it. I will have a lawyer draw all this up and will have the final papers brought by in the next few days for you two to sign."

Quinn cleared her throat. "Actually there was one more thing. I mean I will be living here now and I wasn't sure what your expectations were." She looked around the dining room, who had a proper dining room in New York? "I'm sure that I can't even come close to paying half the rent on this place, but I assume you will want me to pay something."

Rachel turned to look at Santana. She honestly hadn't given a thought to having Quinn pay rent. Santana raised her eyebrows, letting the singer know that it was up to her. Santana knew that Rachel didn't really need the money, the apartment and her living expenses were paid for by a trust.

Rachel cleared her throat and met Quinn's gaze. "Actually I hadn't really given it any thought." Quinn blinked; more than a little envious that money seemed to be of no concern for the other woman. "As long as you pay for all of your own food and other necessities, I don't see any need to collect rent."

Quinn swallowed her pride, which was clamoring for her to insist that she could pay. The truth was she knew if she wanted to still keep her room at Brittany's, and not burden her friend, that she couldn't pay. "Okay. Thanks. If that changes let me know. Libby and I will do our best to stay out of your way and be as little trouble as possible."

Rachel smiled graciously. "I'm sure you won't be any bother. It will be nice to have someone else to rattle around this big apartment with." Rachel wasn't sure of anything of the sort, she had only had a roommate briefly in college before realizing that there was no way she could live in the noise and general disorder of the dorms. Ever since she had lived alone and she wasn't at all sure how she was going to handle sharing her space.

Santana pushed back from the table and stood up. "Well if that's everything, I am going to head out."

Brittany stood from the table as well. "I'm going to head out too." Quinn looked at her friend, a slightly panicked look appearing in her eyes. "Santana if you wouldn't mind waiting while I get my jacket from Quinn's room I will walk out with you."

Santana nodded her assent and watched as the two blonde's walked out of the dining room.

"See that wasn't so bad," Santana teased her friend.

"No thanks to you. How could you not tell me you had her investigated?"

Santana shrugged. "I like watching you squirm. I can't believe you really thought I would let you go into a situation that blindly." Something that had been bothering her from the earlier conversation resurfaced. "Is there a reason that you don't want to involve your Dad in this."

Rachel's father was a lawyer, and a damn good one, so when she said she had connections, she wasn't really over stating the case. Santana had figured that would be the first person that Rachel would go to with this.

"I don't want them to find out," Rachel stated quietly.

"Rachel," Santana said on an exasperated half laugh, "there is no way you are going to be able to keep this quiet from your dads."

"I might," she insisted staunchly.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Right. Your dads' are almost as bad as you are about scouting the newspaper for mentions of you. There is no way that they are going to miss this little "marriage" especially if it goes on for over year. Why not just tell them and get it over with."

Rachel shook her head. "I don't want to involve them in this Santana."

Santana held up her hands. "Okay, whatever, but when this all blows up in your face and you have two pissed of dads on your doorstep don't come to me expecting miracles."

Rachel bit her lip and nodded her understanding. She knew that Santana was right, the odds of her fathers' not finding out about this were miniscule, but there was just a part of her that didn't want to reveal the truth. It was just so _embarrassing,_and she wanted to put it off for as long as humanly possible.

"Ready to go?" Santana turned to face the doorway, where Quinn and Brittany once again stood. Santana smiled at the blonde and nodded.

"I am more than ready." She held out her arm and after a brief moment of surprise, the other woman hooked her own around it. "Let's get out of here and let these two love birds get on with the honeymoon."

"Santana!" Rachel cried indignantly flushing lightly in embarrassment.

Santana merely laughed at her friend's outrage and waved over her shoulder as she led Brittany out of the room and towards the door. Stepping out in to the hallway, Santana was pulled to a halt as soon as the door closed. Turning she looked at Brittany who was looking at the closed door with a worried expression.

"Do you think they are doing the right thing?"

Knowing that now wasn't the time for a smart ass joke Santana nodded her head. "I do. They are both going to get something out of this, and Rachel may be a handful at times, but she really does mean well. Quinn may want to strangle her before this whole thing is up, but at the end of the day I think they are both going to have what they want most."

Brittany looked at the door for a moment more before nodding her head and allowing Santana to lead her toward the elevator.

Santana looked sideways at her blonde companion. "Sooo," she drew the word out seductively, "how about you and I get some dinner later?"

Brittany laughed lightly and pushed the button for the elevator. "I am not going to sleep with you."

Santana drew back her head in surprise. "Was that what I said? Because I could've sworn I asked you to dinner."

Brittany glanced sideways at the Latina. "I know what you said." Brittany stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor. When the doors started to slide shut Santana scrambled forward before they could close.

"So this whole no sleeping with me… is this just a tonight thing, or are we talking like ever?"


	5. Chapter 5 - Getting to Know You

**Chapter 5: Getting to Know You**

* * *

"So…," Rachel stated somewhat awkwardly, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap.

"I should go unpack," Quinn said at almost the same time, gesturing vaguely in the direction of her new room.

"Oh," Rachel's voice held a trace of disappointment, "I thought that maybe we could spend a little time getting to know each other. If we are going to convince people that we have fallen madly in love it would stand to reason that we are going to at least have to know the basics. The fact that Santana is going to sell it as a bit of a whirl wind will help cover some of the gaps, but certainly not all."

Quinn eyed the doorway longingly, all she really wanted to do was escape to the privacy of her room, but Rachel did have a point, she didn't really know the first thing about the other woman. Reluctantly, she nodded her head. "I guess, you're right, those boxes aren't going anywhere."

"Why don't we take this into the living room, the sofa is much more comfortable than the dining room table." Not waiting for a response, because it hadn't really been a suggestion, Rachel stood and made her way into the adjacent living room. Quinn followed silently behind, marveling yet again at the apartment she found herself in. She had grown up in a fairly wealthy environment, at least wealthy for Lima, Ohio, but she knew that an apartment of this size would cost much more than her childhood home.

Rachel settled onto one end of the leather sectional and gestured for Quinn to join her. The blonde sat at the opposite end and turned her body so that she was facing the brunette. "I was thinking it might be helpful if we were each to write up a short summary of our lives, as well as compiling a list of likes, dislikes, and any other unique information that one's intimate partner should be privy too, almost a cliff notes version of our lives."

"Or we could just talk," Quinn suggested on a half-laugh.

"I just thought it would be more efficient if we had a written guide to refer too, that way we could brush up on each other even when we're not together."

Quinn laughed a little more fully and shook her head. "Rachel no one is going to expect us to have encyclopedic knowledge of each other, in fact if we did it might seem a little odd and creepy."

Rachel nodded her head, deciding it was probably best not to mention the file she had kept of Jesse's various likes and dislikes, just in case she needed the information to plan a special evening or date and she didn't remember. "Yes, I can see where that may seem a little…over the top." Santana had called it borderline stalker-ish, but Rachel really just felt she was being a conscientious girlfriend.

Quinn smiled, relieved that she wasn't going to have to write a book report on herself. "So we know each other's first and last name's, that's more than some one night stands can say," Quinn joked.

The attempt at levity worked and Rachel laughed lightly. "Yes, but only because we managed to get married and we had it in writing. Well you know that I am an aspiring Broadway sensation, but if you told me what it is you do I'm afraid I have forgotten it."

Quinn shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm a waitress." Quinn had never been embarrassed about what she did for a living; she did what she needed to in order to support her daughter. However, there was a part of her, an ever growing part, that couldn't help feel a little ashamed of her job when surrounded by such wealth.

"Where?" Rachel questioned.

Quinn eyed the other woman, trying to detect if there as any hint of snideness or censure in her tone, but Quinn could only detect honest curiosity. "A diner over on 38th."

Rachel hummed to herself, the wheels turning in her head. "That could be good for us."

"How?" Quinn looked at the brunette in surprise; she had thought her decidedly working class background would make the two of them as a believable couple that much harder to pull off.

"It's not far from the theater district, and it provides a plausible scenario for our meeting."

Quinn nodded her head, she hadn't really given much thought to establishing their back story, but the brunette did raise a good point. "So are we supposed to create our epic love story, or is that something Santana is going to take care of?"

"Santana wants us to get to know each other, and then fill in the blanks for her, from there she will fine tune the details to our advantage," Rachel supplied.

"Makes sense, it wouldn't do much good if she created an elaborate scenario that neither of us could remember when it counted."

Rachel looked affronted. "I am a trained actress Quinn, I can assure you I would not crack under pressure."

"Yeah well I'm not, so this works out well." Quinn drew in a breath. "Well we've covered work; I guess the next thing we would be expected to know is family." The blonde gave a short laugh. "As you are by now aware, I am not on the best terms with mine."

"Has the relationship between you always been strained?"

Quinn shook her head. "No it was perfect as long as I did everything they wanted and didn't think for myself." Quinn chuckled bitterly. "It was only after I went off to college, and realized that they couldn't control my every action that it started to go downhill."

"What happened?"

Quinn, who had been lost in memory, shook herself and looked at the brunette. "I went a little wild, fully enjoyed the fact that I was no longer under their thumb. One night I got drunk and stupid and hooked up with a guy at a frat party. I think you know how that turned out."

Rachel nodded. "Libby."

Quinn nodded her head in affirmation. "Libby. Getting rid of her was never an option, when I told my parents I had to drop out they of course demanded to know why. Let's just say that my uber-Christian parent's, to whom appearance is everything, were not happy to discover that their daughter was going to be an unwed mother."

"How old is Libby?" Rachel realized she had never gotten this piece of information, but judging by Quinn's looks, she couldn't be that old, Quinn didn't look much over 21.

A small smile involuntarily graced Quinn's lips as she thought of her daughter. "Almost three."

Rachel frowned, a small crease forming between her eyebrows. "So if she's almost three, why are they suddenly trying to get custody now? What changed?"

"Well up until six months ago they thought I was just an immoral slut who got pregnant out of wedlock. The few times a year they've called out of obligation they would ask if I had found a man willing to marry me yet, pointing out that I was setting a horrible example for Libby with no father figure in her life." Quinn ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know, I just couldn't take it anymore and I snapped - told them I was gay, that there would never be a man and they could just stop asking. The next time I heard from them it was in the form of legal papers contesting custody."

"So you are gay?" Rachel questioned.

Quinn frowned. "Uh yes, why would you ask?"

Rachel flushed lightly. "Well it's just…the guy…Libby."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I was in college, and stupid, and though I was no longer under my parents thumb their influence was still there. When I suspected that I might be gay I kinda panicked, and set out to prove that I wasn't."

"So is her father around?"

Quinn shook her head. "No, he was never in the picture. I told him, figured I owed him that much, but I never expected anything of him, it was my decision, and he was more than happy to be left out of the picture."

Rachel scowled in disapproval. "That doesn't seem right, he shouldn't have just abandoned you like that."

"He didn't abandon me, we didn't even really know each other, and it was just easier to have him out of the picture." Quinn said, easily shaking off the notion of having anything more than the drunken one night stand with Libby's father. "Well, I think that covers the basics of my not so loving relationship with my parents, how about we talk about yours?" She was eager to change the subject, not wanting to dwell on the past.

Rachel smiled. "My parents are great. They have been my biggest supporters and best friends my whole life. I don't know what I would do without them."

Quinn felt a pang of envy when she saw how the brunette's face lit up when talking about her parents. "Do they live around here?"

Rachel nodded. "They have a place on the Upper East Side, we try to get together every few weeks and we speak over the phone often."

"So have you told them about us?"

Rachel paled slightly and averted her gaze. "Uhm…no, not as such."

Quinn raised her eyebrows and gave the other woman a questioning look.

"I just...it's just that…this is so embarrassing! How am I supposed to tell my parents I went to Vegas, got drunk, had a one night stand, and oh wait, got married. It's just so mortifying."

"Will they be angry?"

Rachel bit her lip, and thought a moment before shaking her head. "Worse. I think they'll just be disappointed."

Quinn smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure if they are as supportive as you say, they will understand Rachel. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Perhaps, but I prefer to put that particular conversation off as long as possible."

"You don't think that will just make it worse?" Quinn asked, unknowingly echoing Santana.

"I'm actually hoping they don't find out at all."

Quinn gave the brunette a disbelieving look. "How is that supposed to work, we are going to be together for at least a year, and Santana's plan involves media exposure."

Rachel sighed in frustration. "I know, I know…but I just can't face them right now."

Quinn held up her hands, sensing the other woman's agitation. "Hey, they are your parents; however you want to play it. So what do they do?"

Rachel bit her lip again, not sure how the blonde was going to take this bit of information. "Well Daddy is a pediatrician," Rachel paused briefly, "and Dad is a lawyer."

Quinn frowned in confusion. "I thought you just said he was a doctor."

Rachel looked at her blankly. "No that's Daddy." Rachel looked at the blonde in surprise. "Oh! Did I not mention that I have two dads?"

Quinn glanced at the brunette. "Uh...no, I think I would have recalled that, all things considered."

"I don't know how I overlooked that, but yes, two dads, no mom."

"Well that certainly explains why you were so irritated with the news that my parents were trying to take Libby because I was gay."

"It did play a part. I think it's remarkably small minded of people to think that gay people are somehow unfit to be parents."

"Did your dads run into a custody issue with you?"

"No. My dad's hired a surrogate."

"What about your grandparents?"

"Dad's parents are both dead, and Daddy's parents are very supportive."

Quinn smiled, the feeling of envy once again blooming in her chest. "You're very lucky to have such a supportive family."

Rachel smiled warmly. "I know."

Quinn thought of something that the singer had said. "So your dad is a lawyer? Is that where your legal connections come from?"

Rachel merely nodded her head in response, not wanting to dive too deeply into her father's career.

"What type of law does he practice?" Quinn asked politely.

Rachel bit back a small groan; this is exactly where she didn't want this conversation to go. If Quinn found out that her father specialized in family law she was bound to insist that Rachel ask for her father's help, and she really didn't want to involve her parents in this any more than she had to. "Oh mostly just general practice stuff." Rachel clapped her hands together slightly, quickly changing the subject. "So I think that pretty much covers our work and family situation. Is there anything else you wanted to ask about?"

The abrupt conversation shift didn't go unnoticed by the blonde, and she figured that Rachel was talked out for now. Quinn couldn't blame her, she was feeling kind of exhausted herself. Glancing down at her watch she looked back to the brunette.

"Actually, if you don't mind, could we maybe pick this up again later? I would really like to get some unpacking done and try to get a little settled before I have to leave for work."

Rachel smiled broadly. "I don't mind at all. It's probably best we get to know each other in small sessions anyway, gives the information time to sink in." Rachel pushed up from the couch. "I will just leave you to it then. If you need anything don't hesitate to ask." Rachel smiled down at the blonde. "I think this may just work out Quinn."

Rachel had had her doubts about allowing a stranger to move into her house, but after her brief talk with the blonde she was feeling decidedly better about the decision. The other woman seemed nice, polite, well-mannered and not to mention, easy on the eyes. All in all Rachel didn't think she could have asked for a better housemate. Yes, this wasn't going to be as bad as she had feared.

* * *

Rachel opened the cabinet door once more, convinced she had merely overlooked it. She had been searching the kitchen for the last five minutes for her favorite gold star mug, and so far it was nowhere to be found.

Grumbling to herself she walked over to the dishwasher, for the fifth time, to check inside. Even though she knew it wouldn't be in there, she never put the mug in the dishwasher – afraid that something may happen to it. She had had that mug since grade school, and ever since she had gotten it she had had her morning cup of coffee, or hot chocolate when she was younger, from that mug.

Eying the coffee maker longingly she glanced briefly at the cabinet where she kept the rest of her coffee mugs, for guests, no one ever got to touch her precious gold star mug. She shook her head; coffee just wouldn't taste right from any other mug. Slamming the dishwasher door closed in frustration she spun to face the center of the room with her hands on her hips.

It was clear that the mug was not in the kitchen, and she would have to search the rest of the house. As she turned and strode briskly toward the doorway she collided solidly with Quinn. The blonde let out a whoosh of air at the impact. Rachel briefly noted the not un-pleasurable sensation of the blonde's breasts against her own before she registered that whatever Quinn had been holding in her hand had gone airborne.

Rachel realized with frozen horror, that the object was royal blue, and had a distinctive and well loved gold star on the front. Knowing she should move, but seemingly unable to do so, Rachel could only watch in horror as her mug followed its downward trajectory, heading towards its inevitable destruction against the hard slate tiles of her kitchen floor. She closed her eyes tightly, unable to witness the demise of her longtime breakfast companion.

Quinn looked at the closed eyed brunette in concern. "Um…are you okay?"

Rachel slowly pried her eyes open, the expected sound of shattering ceramic not meeting her ears. To her amazement Quinn was holding the mug safely in her hands. Squealing happily she reached out and snatched the mug from the blonde's startled grasp, clutching it safely to her chest with both hands. "It's okay!"

Quinn looked at the other woman in surprise. "Yeah I grabbed it just before it hit the ground. All that time as a waitress has honed my dish saving skills." Watching the other woman continue to fawn over the mug like a long lost child, Quinn raised her eyebrow in question. "I take it that mug is rather important to you?"

Rachel looked up from her inspection of the mug, wanting to verify that it hadn't been scratched or chipped during the ordeal. "I have had this mug since I was a child since I first decided that I wanted to become the next great Broadway star. I have had my morning, juice, hot chocolate, and now coffee in it since that day. It is irreplaceable to me." Now that the shock had worn off, and her beloved mug was safe, Rachel could feel her temper starting to rise.

"Oh…sorry I didn't realize. I came in for my morning coffee and I just grabbed the first mug in the cabinet. I will be sure not to touch it again." Quinn was more than a little afraid of the intense devotion that brunette was showing the mug. She shivered slightly at the thought of what would have happened if she had been unable to save it in time.

"Yes, that would probably be for the best," Rachel insisted, before walking over to the sink to turn on the water. She tested the temperature before grabbing a soft dish rag and methodically washing the mug. Twice. After drying it she made her way over to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup from the pot. Adding cream and sugar, she brought it to her lips and took a healthy swallow, only to spit it back into the sink.

"What is this?" she questioned in disgust.

"Pumpkin spice, it's a special blend," Quinn responded a bit defensively. Okay not everyone loved her choice in flavored coffees, but people so rarely gave them a fair chance.

"Well it's utterly disgusting," Rachel decreed, grabbing the pot and pouring it down the drain. Quinn opened her mouth to protest, she had wanted at least one more cup, but decided to not press her luck after almost killing the singer's treasured mug. Yeah, this roommate thing was just going to be a blast.

* * *

Quinn dug into her pocket for her keys with a tired sigh. It was only Wednesday, and she had only been pulling triple shifts at the diner since Monday, but she already felt like death warmed over. One of the nice things about Rachel's apartment was that it was half the distance to the diner than her place with Brittany, which was something Quinn really appreciated on nights like this. Of course now she had to make that journey alone, since her and Brittany now lived in opposite directions.

Closing the door quietly behind her, not wanting to wake the apartments other resident at such a late hour, Quinn shuffled toward her bedroom. All she really wanted to do was drop onto her bed and sleep for the next week, but the growling and burning in her stomach was letting her know that she really needed to eat something.

The diner offered free food to the waitresses while on shift, but it was rarely slow enough for Quinn to take advantage, plus the food was all deep fried, and greasy. She felt her stomach turn at the thought. Stripping off her uniform she tossed it blindly towards her hamper, making a note to do laundry in the morning, the grease saturated odor that clung to her uniform was starting to permeate the room.

She debated about taking a shower first, but decided that if she allowed herself to get under the warm spray she may never get out again. Putting on a pair of shorts and t-shirt Quinn made her way towards the kitchen. Flipping on the light, she still didn't know the apartment well enough to navigate in the dark; she padded over to the refrigerator. Surveying the contents she realized that she hadn't had time to actually go food shopping yet, so she was going to have to eat some of Rachel's food and replace it.

Poking around the contents she finally settled on the ingredients for a cheese and veggie quesadilla. After a few wrong tries she finally found the cabinet that contained the pans. Flipping the burner on she coated the pan lightly with oil and grabbed a knife from the block on the counter to begin chopping her vegetables. Tossing them in the pan she sautéed them for a few minutes before turning them off and dumping them onto a plate.

Grabbing the tortillas, she placed one in the pan, poured her vegetables in place, topped it with cheese, and then covered it all up with her second tortilla. Turning the heat down to medium, she walked over to the island and pulled out a bar stool. Beyond exhausted she crossed her arms on the counter top and leaned forward to rest her head against them.

The shrill cry of an alarm jerked Quinn from sleep. She looked around in confusion, noticing that she was in the kitchen and not her bedroom. The confusion cleared when she saw the smoking pan on the stove. Biting back a curse she jumped up and grabbed it off the stove. What was supposed to be her dinner was now a charred smoking mass stuck to the bottom of the pan. Placing it in the sink, she turned on the water and smothered the contents, hoping to prevent more smoke from filling the kitchen. Leaving the pan to smoke, she grabbed one of the kitchen towels and looked around for the smoke detector that was still emitting a piercing shriek.

Locating it above the doorway she waved the towel in front of it, futilely trying to clear the area of smoke and silence the alarm. Just as she was about to search the area for a broom to knock the thing off the wall, a very disgruntled brunette appeared.

"I assume since you are still in here, and not coming to get me, that the apartment is not in fact burning down?" Rachel griped loudly to be heard above the alarm, arms crossed across her chest.

Quinn looked at the sleep rumpled brunette sheepishly. If the other woman wasn't glaring daggers of hate at her she would almost say she was cute in her sleeping shorts and top, with her hair slightly mussed from sleep. "I was trying to make myself something to eat…and I guess I fell asleep while it was cooking."

Rachel walked over to the window and opened it wide, allowing some of the smoke to escape. Turning, she walked over to the sink and peered in at the blackened mass. "What exactly was it?"

Quinn ran her hands through her hair, having given up on silencing the alarm. "Veggie quesadilla." The alarm finally cut off its shrill beeping and Quinn breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh…that reminds me I owe you a green pepper, an onion, some avocado and some cheese."

Rachel scowled, that avocado had been for her breakfast tomorrow. Gritting her teeth she managed a small smile. "No worries, I'm sure you'll replace it as soon as possible." Rachel took in the destruction of her kitchen and frowned. "Is this something I can expect to happen every time you cook?"

Quinn flushed in embarrassment and shook her head. "No, I can usually manage to prepare a meal for myself without burning down the building." She sighed and sank back on to the bar stool she had occupied before. "All these extra shifts at the diner are just taking more out of me than I expected. I just put my head down for a second and the next thing I know the kitchen is full of smoke and the alarm is going crazy."

Rachel looked at the waitress critically. She really did look haggard. There were dark circles under her eyes and her shoulders were slumped in exhaustion. Rachel felt a pang of sympathy. "Well I understand that you must be exhausted and not really feeling like yourself, but I really do need to get my rest, a consistent routine is very important to me, so I do ask that you try to refrain from burning the place down when you get late night cravings."

Quinn felt the burn of embarrassment heat her cheeks again but simply nodded her head. "It won't happen again."

Rachel nodded her head. "Good." Quinn watched the brunette leave the kitchen and dropped her head onto the counter in defeat.

"Great move Fabray, first you almost destroy her favorite mug, then you almost burn her house down. Could this week get any better?"

* * *

'_Ain't nothin' gonna to break my stride'  
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no  
I got to keep on movin'_

Quinn groaned and buried her head deeper under the pillow. The first time this had happened she thought that maybe it was a fluke. I mean what person that didn't have a regular 9-5 job would willingly get up at six o'clock in the morning to exercise. The second and third times it had happened, Quinn realized that her insane roommate was such a person.

Every morning like clockwork the hideously cheerful strains of entirely too peppy 80's pop music would filter through the walls, pulling the blonde from desperately needed sleep. She tried burrowing under the pillow, she tried earplugs, but nothing seemed to stop the insidious sound from penetrating and waking her up.

It wouldn't be so bad, except every morning it was the _same_ songs, over and over and over. Quinn was convinced that it was slowly driving her insane. Maybe Rachel was getting her back for almost breaking her mug and burning down her apartment.

_Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride  
I'm running and I won't touch ground  
Oh-no, I got to keep on movin'  
_

Quinn groaned and rolled over, flopping on to her back. It didn't matter, no matter what she had done, nothing warranted this kind of torture.

* * *

"So how do you like the new roomie? Have you guys started doing each other's hair and nails yet?" Santana asked with a smirk, taking a sip of her drink.

Rachel glared across the table at her friend. Santana had suggested they meet for lunch and touch base regarding their "little project" as she liked to call it. "Not hardly," Rachel grumbled, a scowl furrowing her brow.

Santana raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Am I sensing trouble in paradise? Surely you guys can't be over the honeymoon stage already. It's only been four days."

"Four of the hardest days of my life," Rachel declared dramatically.

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad," Santana scoffed.

"Not that bad? She took my mug, almost broke it, ate my avocado, interrupted my much needed 8 hours of sleep, and practically burned down my apartment."

"Sounds like you have had quite the busy last couple of days," Santana joked.

"It's not funny Santana," Rachel insisted archly.

Santana laughed at her friend's ire. "I beg to differ. From where I'm sitting it is absolutely hilarious." When Rachel just huffed in response the Latina just laughed harder. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. You are twenty three years old and you are sitting there having and honest to god temper tantrum like a spoiled toddler."

"I'm not spoiled!" Rachel retorted hotly, stamping her foot a little under the table.

Santana rolled her eyes at her friend's response. "Oh right, silly me what _could_ I have been thinking." Santana took another sip of her drink. "You have been the pampered only child of two doting parent's, you were bound to be spoiled. Just think of this as a learning experience. It's about time you learned how to share."

Rachel looked at her friend skeptically. "You're going to give me lectures on how I need to learn to share? Please, you're worse than I am."

Santana waved her hand, dismissing the singer's claim. "I grew up with siblings, I did all my give and take when I was a kid, I have earned the right to be selfish."

"Please, if any of your siblings touched your things you probably beat the daylights out of them."

"Not the point. This isn't about me, it's about you."

Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. "I don't mind sharing. I don't!" Rachel cried upon seeing Santana's disbelieving look. "But Quinn has no respect for my things. My mug Santana, my mug."

"Your attachment to that piece of drink ware is completely insane, you do know that right?"

Rachel pouted. "It's more than a mug. My parent's got me that mug when I realized that I wanted to be a Broadway star. It's a metaphor for that dream, metaphors are important Santana."

The Latina merely rolled her eyes at the speech. She had heard it all before, and she still wasn't impressed. Of course that could be due in large part to the fact that the one time she had made the mistake of using the mug, Rachel had almost taken her head off and she had had to listen to a fifteen minutes lecture on the subject of personal property and the importance of asking before she touched things that didn't belong to her. She had been ten at the time.

"Yes well it's also important that you learn to live in harmony with this woman. So at least try to keep your crazy under wraps just a bit."

Rachel looked affronted. "I'm not crazy, and I'll have you know that I have been nothing but accommodating. She is the one that is practically destroying my house."

"Well I'm sure you'll cope, I hardly imagine it's as bad as you are making it out to be. From what Brittany says, she has been at the diner pretty much from opening to close." Santana noted idly as she scanned the menu.

Rachel reached over and pulled the menu down, giving her friend a playful smirk. "You've been in touch with Brittany have you?"

Santana scowled defensively. "Yeah…so? I needed to run a few things about our "little project" by her. Since she's the one that knows Quinn the best, and she's the only other person in the know it's not like I have a lot of options."

Rachel gave her friend a knowing look. If she didn't know better she would have to say that Santana had a bit of a crush. "Uh huh."

"Whatever," Santana mumbled. "Aren't you even curious what I had to call her about?"

"Is it something that is fit for lunch discussion?" Rachel teased.

"It was _business_ related Rachel so get your mind out of the gutter." Rachel bit her lip, trying to suppress a giggle, knowing that it would only further irritate the Latina. If only Santana could see the irony of telling her to keep her mind out of the gutter.

"Sorry, so what was this business matter that you simply had to run past Brittany?"

Santana looked at her friend suspiciously but decided to ignore her and carry on. "Well I was thinking that we need to make sure that you and Quinn are passable before we debut you in public. We really don't want your first outing to be one that matters."

"That makes sense I guess, a full dress rehearsal is an important part of the process."

Santana smiled happily. "Great, because I was thinking that the four of us could go out this weekend."

"And Brittany needs to be involved in this why?" Rachel didn't actually care that the other blonde would be tagging along. The few times they had met she had actually seemed rather sweet, and she certainly seemed to have Santana under her spell. Rachel just couldn't resist a chance to harass her usually unflappable friend.

"Well for one thing, I figured she would help Quinn feel more at ease, and for another I am hardly going to be the pathetic single third wheel on our little outing. Plus she will be another person to help judge just how authentic you guys are."

Rachel smiled at her friend. "Well that sounds like a sound enough reason."

"Good so do you think Quinn will be able to swing this weekend?" Santana asked as she once again went back to perusing the menu.

Rachel bit her lip, looking a little uncertain. "I'm not sure, she has been pretty much working non-stop since she moved in. I'll see if she can get away, if not maybe we can arrange something for next weekend."

Santana looked up from the menu with a frown. "That long?" At Rachel's raised eyebrow the Latina looked back down and grumbled, "I just think that the sooner we can get you two out on the town the better."

"I am touched by your endless devotion to my career," Rachel replied drily. "But you needn't worry, it's not like I am just sitting around not preparing. As a matter of fact Quinn and I had quite a lovely chat the first day she moved in, and I have drawn up a brief cheat sheet to refer to."

Santana dropped the menu onto the table with a groan. "Oh my god please, please tell me you are not making another one of those creepy, stalker girlfriend likes and dislikes files again Rachel." At Rachel's sheepish look Santana sighed loudly. "We talked about this, it just freaks people out that you are keeping this database of information on them."

"I don't see why being a thoughtful partner is looked upon with such derision," Rachel complained.

"Remembering anniversaries is thoughtful, or their favorite food, or where you went on your first date, but when you enter it all in to a cross referenced database it just veers sharply into the creepy."

Rachel huffed. "Well I'll just keep the file to myself then."

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. "Please do." Finally deciding on what she wanted Santana tossed the menu onto the table. "Where is that waitress? I have been ready to order for ages; with service like this she will be lucky to get a tip."

Rachel merely shook her head at her friend's diatribe. She was never happy with restaurant service and Rachel usually ended up leaving a generous tip for the poor waitresses that had to serve them. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Rachel questioned, hoping to prevent Santana from going on a rant.

Santana swiveled her attention back to her companion. "Not much. Why?"

"Oh I have to run by the Apple store and pick up an iPod," Rachel grumbled. She had looked all over her workout room, her bedroom, the living room, and it was simply nowhere to be found.

"What happened to your other one?"

"Can't find it, I have looked _everywhere_ and it has simply vanished in to thin air. So do you want to run over there with me?"

Santana shrugged, she didn't really have anything better to do. "Sure."

Suddenly a thought struck Rachel and she looked at her friend questioningly. "You don't think that maybe Quinn took it do you?"

Santana rolled her eyes. "Rachel you need to stop being so damn paranoid. I'm sure she didn't take your iPod."

* * *

"You stole her iPod?" Brittany asked her friend in disbelief. The two blonde's were on their way into the kitchen with a stack of dishes. The dinner rush had kept them both busy and this was the first time they had really had to talk.

"I didn't steal it, steal it. I just put it somewhere she isn't like to ever find it," Quinn defended herself, a slight whine in her tone. Taking the brunette's iPod hadn't been one of her better moments, but she hadn't known what else to do.

"You took it without her knowledge and didn't tell her that you did. That's stealing Quinn," Brittany insisted as she placed her stack of dishes down on the counter. Picking one up she began to scrape the excess food into the trash.

"I know," Quinn groaned, "but I didn't know what else to do." Quinn picked up one of the plates and began scraping as well.

"Did you try asking her to turn it down," Brittany suggested reasonably.

Quinn gave her friend a sheepish look. "Well no." At Brittany's accusing look Quinn hurried to defend herself. "I mean I just feel odd telling her to turn down the music in her own apartment. I am the interloper after all, it just doesn't feel right."

"But stealing her things does?" Brittany asked skeptically.

Quinn sighed in frustration. "Well no, but you don't know what it was like." Quinn picked up another plate and began to scrape more vigorously. "I mean it's the _same_ songs, every day. Who can listen to the same thing over and over like that?" Brittany did not look convinced by the argument. "Plus the music is just _awful_ who can listen to that stuff? I was doing a public service," Quinn insisted.

"You know you have to give it back to her."

Quinn huffed in irritation. "I know, but I am going to have at least a few days of peace and quiet before I do."

"So how is going other than that?" Brittany asked. She hadn't really had much time to talk with Quinn since the move. The other blonde had been working non-stop, and while some of their shifts overlapped Quinn would usually try to rest during the occasional slow times.

"It's going okay I guess. If you discount that fact that I am a complete spaz around her and have already almost broken her prized coffee mug and burned down her apartment."

Brittany looked at her friend in concern. "When did this happen?"

"Last night. I decided to make myself something to eat after work and put my head down for a second to rest while it was on the stove. Next thing I know the alarm is going off and the kitchen is full of smoke."

Brittany winced in sympathy. "So you've made quite the first impression."

Quinn nodded her head. "I'm sure she thinks I am a complete idiot. Something that will only be reinforced when she finds out I stole her iPod," Quinn lamented. She shook her head at her actions. "God what was I thinking?"

Brittany wiped her hands on her apron before reaching over and resting a comforting hand on her friend's back, rubbing in small soothing circles. "You aren't thinking, you are exhausted, you need to slow down before you kill yourself." Brittany noted the circles under her friend's eyes with some concern. "How much sleep are you getting?"

Quinn laughed humorlessly. "Well between working late, worrying about Libby, and getting woken at the crack of dawn by music, about three hours, maybe less a night."

"Quinn…," Brittany scolded.

"I know, I know, but I have to use this time to make as much cash as possible. Especially if I am going to have to miss work on some weekends so I can do the arm candy thing with Rachel."

Brittany grabbed onto the opening. "About that…Santana was thinking that maybe we should go out this weekend and do a bit of a dry run, see how convincing the two of you are."

Quinn looked at Brittany knowingly, her lips pursed and her eyebrow slightly arched. "Been keeping in touch with Santana?"

Brittany felt a faint bloom of color blossom on her cheeks but she nodded her head. "She wanted to see if I would be down for going out with you guys, to provide another opinion on how convincing you were."

"Uh huh, I'm sure that's all she has in mind." Quinn looked at her blushing friend in concern. Brittany was a very sweet girl, and people had a tendency to take advantage of that. "Just be careful with her. She seems like she might be the type to toss you to the side once she has gotten what she wants."

Brittany nodded her head in understanding. "I will. So what do you think about going out this weekend?"

"I don't know…I was planning to work a triple on Saturday. You know that is one of our busiest nights, so the tips will be good."

Brittany gave her friend a meaningful look. "Quinn you need to take a break. Plus being able to convince people that you and Rachel are a real couple is just as important, if not more so, than the money."

Quinn reluctantly nodded her head. "I guess you're right," she admitted begrudgingly. "Of course that means that I have to find someone to cover my shift on such short notice."

Brittany smiled happily and waved her hand. "Oh don't worry about that. I have already talked to Nina and Michelle, they were both more than happy to cover our shift tomorrow."

"Great," Quinn grumbled unenthusiastically.

"Oh cheer up, it will be fun. We have never really had the chance to double," Quinn bubbled happily.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it will be a blast," Quinn uttered flatly. "And this is _not_ a date, it is all strictly professional."

Brittany laughed at her friend and shook her head. "Well you are going to have to change that mindset a bit if you are going to pull this off. We clearly have our work cut out for us."


	6. Chapter 6 - One Step Forward

AN: Sorry for the delay, no real excuse, this chapter and I just couldn't come to terms and I decided to just be done with it so I could move the fic along.

* * *

**Chapter 6: One Step Forward**

Quinn shifted the container of food she was holding to her left hand so she could dig the keys out of her pocket. After the fiasco the last time she had tried to cook something there was no way she was risking a repeat performance, and had reluctantly brought something home from the diner. Closing the door quietly behind her she sagged back against the surface and closed her eyes for a moment. The walk to Rachel's place was shorter, but after her fourth consecutive 18 hour shift, she was still completely drained.

"Oh good you're finally home."

Not expecting Rachel to still be up, Quinn startled, the motion dislodging the container she was holding loosely in her grasp and sending it crashing to the floor. Quinn bit back a curse as she opened her eyes and looked at what was supposed to be her dinner now spread across the floor of Rachel's apartment.

"Oh sorry, did I startle you?" Rachel asked as she looked down at the contents that was now marring her floor and then back up at Quinn.

Quinn bit back the instinctive sarcastic remark and merely bent down to start scooping the contents back into the container the best she could. Luckily she had settled on a simple turkey club so the mess wasn't that great.

"Did you need to talk to me about something?" Quinn asked, looking at the brunette as she stood.

Rachel nodded her head and bit her lip slightly. "Did you want something to eat? I got take out earlier and there is still plenty left over if you want some." Rachel gestured vaguely towards the kitchen.

Quinn nodded her head gratefully and followed the other woman through the apartment. At this point she didn't even care what it was, she was so hungry she would eat anything, and she still hadn't had time to go shopping so she had nothing to cook. _Oh shit, I totally forgot to get her avocado. _

Walking over to the trash can Quinn dumped her container in the bin and then turned to the refrigerator. Rachel waved her away, and gestured for her to take a seat at the kitchen island.

"Sit, you look dead on your feet." Quinn didn't even bother to put up a token protest and sat with a weary sigh of relief. Rachel opened the door and began taking out cartons, placing them one by one on the counter. "I ordered Chinese. I have Sweet and Sour Chicken, Broccoli and Beef, crab rangoons, egg rolls, shrimp fried rice…what sounds good."

Quinn felt her mouth start to water at the litany of menu items. She didn't really get the opportunity to eat out much, and tended to only prepare food that Libby would eat, so the Chinese sounded divine. "It all sounds great. I'll just have a little bit of everything."

Rachel nodded her head and grabbed a plate down from the cupboard. "A sampler it is." Rachel quickly dished the food on to the plate and popped it into the microwave. Quinn watched her quietly before curiosity got the better of her.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

Rachel kept her hands busy by wiping down the already spotless counter. "Well I had lunch with Santana today. Did I mention that I was planning on meeting with her to give her a bit of a progress report?" Quinn shook her head in the negative. "Well I did. And she had mentioned that she though it wouldn't be an altogether bad idea if we were to maybe go out on a date this Saturday. To try and test the waters and make sure we are a believable couple."

Quinn having been given a heads up by Brittany merely nodded her head. "Brit mentioned something about that at work tonight. It does sound like a good idea," Quinn conceded.

"Are you going to be able to get the time off work?" Rachel asked as the microwave chimed. Turning she grabbed the hot plate and set it in front of Quinn. Quinn smiled her thanks and reached for the fork that the singer was holding out for her.

"Brittany had already asked a couple of the girls to cover for us." Quinn took a bite of the steaming sweet and sour chicken and moaned in pleasure. "Oh my god this is so good," she managed to get out after swallowing the food in her mouth.

"It's from a little place a few blocks over, they have the best Chinese in the city," Rachel replied as she leaned back against the counter.

"Well you won't hear any protests from me on that front." Quinn took another bite and looked at the other woman questioningly. "Did Santana happen to mention if she had heard anything from her law contacts?" The matter of legal representation was still weighing heavily on the blonde's mind, and it was the major reason she was working herself into the ground. She didn't have nearly enough money yet to hire even a half-way competent lawyer.

Rachel shook her head and realized with a small amount of shame that she hadn't even thought to ask. "Sorry she didn't, we mostly just went over how it was going so far and how to move forward on the 'relationship' front. I'm sure she has heard something though, you can ask her when we go out this weekend."

Quinn nodded her head and reached down for another forkful of food only to realize that the plate was empty. While she could certainly stand seconds, and possibly thirds, sleep was now calling, shouting really, for her attention. "Thank you for the food, but it's late and I think I'm going to turn in."

Rachel pushed off the counter and reached for the plate, before Quinn could protest the brunette had already swept it away and loaded it into the dishwasher. "Well it's the least I could do after I made you spill your supper," Rachel insisted with a smile.

* * *

'_Ain't nothin' gonna to break my stride'  
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no  
I got to keep on movin'_

Quinn's eyes snapped open and she blinked in confusion. She brought her hands up and rubbed her eyes, hoping that she was just having a horrible nightmare. Or maybe some kind of delusion brought on by extreme sleep deprivation.

_Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride  
I'm running and I won't touch ground  
Oh-no, I got to keep on movin'_

Throwing off the covers she swung her legs over the side of the bad and swept her hair out of her face. This was going to end here and now; if she had to be woken up one more time at the crack of dawn she was going to hurt someone. Stomping across the room she gripped the door handle firmly and fairly ripped the door off the hinges when she jerked it open.

Walking a few steps down the hallway she approached the diva's workout studio and swung the door harshly inward. Marching into the room she put her hands on her hips and glared at the furiously exercising brunette. Unfortunately the brunette's elliptical was turned to face away from the door so the blonde's impressive glare of death was completely wasted.

Taking a few short strides to the small table that held the brunette's iPod docking station, Quinn ripped the small audio device from the base, plunging the room into welcomed silence. Rachel's stride faltered slightly when the music cut out, but she quickly corrected herself and looked over her shoulder to see what has caused the interruption.

"Oh Quinn, good morning," Rachel greeted the blonde with surprise.

"Well it was," Quinn spat out, still glaring at the chipper brunette, "until I was ripped, yet again, from a sound sleep by the blasting of your insipid music."

Rachel arched her eyebrows in surprise and her mouth dropped open slightly. "My music is not insipid. It is carefully selected for its inspirational tone and motivational message."

Quinn snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. "Well let me assure you that it sucks."

Rachel slowed her gait until the machine came to a stop. Dismounting, she walked over to stand in front of the glowering blonde. "It most certainly does not."

Quinn rolled her eyes and blew out her breath; the brunette's questionable taste in music wasn't really the point. "Look I don't care that you like shitty music. What I do care about is that I can't get more than a few hours sleep because as soon as I fall asleep I am awoken by your insane workout at the crack of dawn."

Rachel put her hands on her hips and glared back at the blonde. "My routine is very important to me, it helps ensure that I get the most out of each and every day."

Quinn snorted. "What do you need to get out of the day? You don't go to school, you don't work, you don't have a job. I mean really, what is it that you really need to accomplish? Getting your hair and nails done? Going shopping?" Quinn lashed out. The grueling hours of work, coupled with the lack of sleep, and the admittedly envious feelings over the brunette's living situation had finally caused the blonde to crack.

Rachel drew back, stung by the venom in the Quinn's tone. "Just because I don't have a traditional job doesn't mean I don't have things I need to accomplish. I have voice lessons, acting lessons, practice, and auditions." Rachel paused a moment before shaking her head. "You know what? I don't have to defend myself, or my daily schedule to you."

Quinn drew in a calming breath; now that the first flush of her anger had cooled she was starting to calm down. With that came the sinking realization that she had just basically called Rachel a spoiled dilettante. "No. You don't," Quinn replied much more calmly. "I didn't mean to barge in here and yell at you. It's just that this is the fourth morning in a row I have been woken up by this song."

Rachel gave the blonde a measured look. Part of her wanted to continue to defend her lifestyle, even though it really shouldn't matter to her what the other woman thought of her. On some level however Quinn's opinion did matter, and the fact that she thought Rachel was just playing around all day stung. "I didn't realize that the music was bothering you."

"Right because two inches of drywall is practically soundproof," Quinn bit out sarcastically before she could censor herself. "I guess I should have said something sooner and not let it get to this point."

"Yes perhaps you should have," Rachel remarked with a little bit of bite in her tone.

Quinn felt her anger starting to rise again at the brunette's sharp reply, but she reined it in. She couldn't afford to completely piss this woman off and have her throw her out in the street. "Well I'm saying something now. Is there any possible way you can do your workout a little bit later?"

Rachel shook her head. "No, I have always started my day with a workout at six, and I am not going to change that now." When Quinn opened her mouth to protest Rachel help up a hand signaling that she still had more to say. "However, I am not completely unreasonable. I will just wear my headphones."

Quinn snapped her mouth shut, the wind having been effectively taken from her sails. She hadn't really thought it would be this simple, and when now faced by the brunette's willing compromise she felt like a bit of an ass for not having just asked sooner.

* * *

Quinn stood in front of her mostly empty closet and flicked through the hangers with a scowl gracing her lips. She was already ten minutes late, having agreed to meet Rachel at 7:30 sharp in the living room so they could go together to meet Santana and Brittany. The problem was that even for their decidedly casual evening she couldn't find anything acceptable to wear. Working as a waitress and running around after a toddler in her free time didn't exactly lend itself to the type of wardrobe needed for a night out.

Quinn gave a resigned sigh and plucked one of the shirts off of the bar, it wasn't ideal but it would have to do. If she spent any more time deciding what to wear Rachel was bound to leave without her. Quinn had been avoiding the brunette since their verbal blow up about her workout routine. Picking up a last minute lunch shift at the diner had helped, but since this evening was all about convincing others that they were a couple, Quinn knew she was going to have to at least apologize and try to clear the air before they left for the restaurant.

The blonde felt badly about what she had said to the other woman, and knew that that most of what she had said was born out of frustration and exhaustion. A part of her was certainly envious of the brunette's seemingly worry free existence, but it wasn't her place to judge how Rachel chose to spend her time.

Quinn slipped the blouse on and gave herself a purse lipped grimace in the mirror. The shirt didn't really fit her correctly and did absolutely nothing for her, it was too large and mostly just hung off her shoulders like a sack. She glanced at her closet once more, hoping that this time something would miraculously appear that hadn't been there before.

A knock drew Quinn's attention toward the door to her room. "Quinn are you almost ready to go? If we don't leave very soon we're going to be late." Rachel had actually built a fifteen minute buffer into the time she had told Quinn they needed to leave; she had found that over the years very few people had her same respect for punctuality.

Quinn groaned and trudged reluctantly over to the door to greet Rachel. When the brunette got her first glimpse of the blonde, Quinn saw her eyes widen slightly in surprise before she fixed her face in a more neutral expression. "I know it's horrible, but I realize now that I have absolutely nothing to wear. Apparently spending the last three years doing little more than working and running around after a toddler doesn't result in a wardrobe filled with suitable dating clothes."

Rachel shook her head and tried to smile reassuringly. It wasn't that the blonde looked bad _per se_; it was just that the outfit was more suited for a day at the park and not a night out in Manhattan. "No, no, it's fine."

Quinn frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not fine, but I don't have anything else to wear. The only thing that would have been remotely acceptable was the dress I wore in Vegas."

Rachel remembered the dress in question and smiled; the blonde had looked amazing in that. "Well why don't you wear that again?"

Quinn raised one eyebrow and gave the brunette a slight smirk. "Because someone tore the straps off."

Rachel bit her lip and felt her cheeks bloom with color. "Right. I had forgotten about that." The brunette perked up slightly and smiled at Quinn. "Well since I owe you a dress why don't you take something of mine." She ran her eyes appraisingly over the blonde's figure. "You're a little taller and more full figured, but I have some dresses that I'm sure would fit."

"Hey!" Quinn cried indignantly. "Are you implying that I'm fat?"

Rachel flushed and quickly tried to explain. "What? No, no I am just saying that you have a slightly curvier build than I myself have." Realizing like it might sound like she had spent time studying the blonde Rachel hurried to add, "Not that I spent that much time observing you…or your build." Not wanting to imply that the blonde wasn't worthy of ogling Rachel continued to ramble. "Not that you're build isn't perfectly lovely of course."

By this time Quinn's eyebrows had both hiked up her forehead and her earlier annoyance at the perceived slight was forgotten. "I get it. Why don't you lead the way to your closet so we aren't late."

Rachel nodded, relieved that the blonde had put a halt her inane rambling. She led the way quickly to her room, Quinn trailing dutifully behind and crossed to throw open the doors to her closet. Quinn's lips parted slightly in shock when she took in the amount of clothing that the other woman had crammed into the not inconsiderable space. Rachel quickly flicked through the hangers and found the dress she had in mind for the blonde.

"Here you go, I think this will fit." Rachel thrust the simple red and black wrap dress toward Quinn. With the blonde's figure she was sure that the garment would hang on her beautifully.

Quinn accepted the dress with a smile of thanks, it was already better than what she had on. "Thanks." Quinn cleared her throat and met Rachel's gaze. "Look I just wanted to apologize for what I said this morning, it was really out of line and there really isn't any excuse. I can only conclude that the stress of the Libby situation, coupled with the lack of sleep, has turned me into a raving bitch."

Rachel waived her hand, dismissing the apology. "Don't give it another thought. This is a highly stressful, not to mention unusual situation. I'm sure it's going to take us both a while to adapt to our new reality. I should have been more thoughtful about how my morning workout would affect you."

Quinn shook her head, grateful that Rachel seemed willing to let bygones be bygones, but not feeling right about just being let off the hook so easily. "Still, it's your apartment, and no matter what the provocation I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."

"It was mine, but for the next year or so it's ours, and as Santana has pointed out many times, I need to learn how to share. Now stop apologizing and go get ready, if I'm late Santana will never let me live it down."

* * *

Rachel scrambled out of the cab and looked back to make sure Quinn was following right behind her. Quinn's outfit change, while totally worth it visually, had definitely made them late in meeting Santana. Seeing that the blonde was having some difficulty exiting the taxi Rachel reached down to offer her a hand.

Quinn gripped her hand firmly and smiled in thanks as she allowed herself to be pulled up and out of the taxi. "Thanks, it's been a while since I have had to maneuver out of a car in a dress."

Rachel smiled briefly in return before dropping the blonde's hand and turning to hurry into the restaurant. Spotting the hostess, Rachel walked over and hoped by some miracle that they had still managed to beat Santana there. "Hi, I'm here for Lopez, party of four."

The hostess smiled back and replied, "If you'll just follow me, the rest of your party has already been seated."

Rachel uttered a soft grown and rather reluctantly followed the overly chipper hostess. She just knew that Santana wasn't going to let her live this down. Sure enough as soon as she rounded the corner she saw the Latina look her way and a smirk twisted Santana's full lips.

"Well I'm glad you finally decided to join us," Santana remarked as soon as the hostess departed.

"Hello Brittany," Rachel greeted the blonde, pointedly ignoring Santana before finally shifting her focus to the Latina. "We were unavoidably delayed," Rachel responded crisply, picking up the menu and giving it her full attention. Maybe if she pretended that it wasn't a big deal to her Santana would just let it go.

"Hi Rachel, it's good to see you again," Brittany replied. "Don't worry about being late, we just barely arrived ourselves."

Rachel lowered the menu briefly to smile her appreciation at the blonde's reassurance. Santana shook her head. "Oh no, there is no way she is getting off that easily. Until you have been on the receiving end of a Rachel Berry lecture about the importance of punctuality, you don't get to just absolve her for her tardiness." Santana gave Rachel a speculative look, glanced toward Quinn who was just observing the two friends bicker, before turning back to Rachel with a smirk. "Now, if I had just gotten married and arrived late to meet friends, I know what I would have been doing," Santana hinted suggestively.

Rachel continued to look deliberately at the menu. "Calling your lawyer to figure out how quickly you could get it annulled?" Rachel volleyed back.

Santana gave a sarcastic half smile. "Funny. No, I would be spending my time much more _pleasurably _than that."

Rachel abandoned the menu and placed it on the table. "Is sex all you ever think about?"

Santana adopted a thoughtful expression and appeared to ponder the question for several moments. "No. I also spend a good deal of time thinking about money and clothes."

Rachel rolled her eyes at her friend. "And here I thought you were shallow." Seeing that the two blonde friends were regarding her and Santana with amusement, Rachel waived her hand to indicate she was done with this particular line of discussion. "If you must know we were late because Quinn couldn't find anything to wear."

Quinn furrowed her eyebrows and shot the singer a slightly annoyed look; she didn't exactly want her lack of proper wardrobe to be the topic of dinner conversation. Santana turned to scrutinize the blonde closely, before shrugging her shoulders. "I don't see what the problem is, she looks fine."

"Well that's because I eventually let her wear one of my dresses," Rachel replied, oblivious to the Quinn's discomfort.

Santana focused her gaze on Quinn. "So you don't have any clothes?" she asked bluntly.

Quinn glared and crossed her arms over her chest. "I have clothes. I just never really had the need to have the type of clothing that would be appropriate for nights out. I spend my time either working or with my daughter."

Santana considered this briefly before replying. "Well we need to take care of that. Part of this whole thing rests on you being seen with Rachel, and that means dressing the part."

"I can't afford to spend money on clothing right now," Quinn insisted.

"Did I ask you to?" Santana challenged. "Rachel will pay for it."

Rachel hiked her brows and looked at her friend. "I will?"

"I can't let Rachel pay for my clothes."

Santana looked back and forth between the two. "Look this isn't really up for debate. Quinn you need clothes to be believable as Rachel's partner, you can't afford them, but Rachel can. What's the problem?"

Quinn set her jaw and looked stonily at the Latina. "The problem is that I don't feel comfortable having Rachel pay for my clothing."

Rachel reached over and rested a hand on Quinn's forearm. The blonde startled slightly at the touch and glanced away from her stare down with Santana. "I have more clothes than any one person probably should, most of which I have never, and likely will never, wear. Why don't we start there, and if we still need to add some pieces we will talk about it then."

"I still don't feel right about taking your things," Quinn protested.

Rachel shook her head. "I really don't wear them, besides I owe you a dress."

"A dress, not a full wardrobe."

"If you don't take them they will just be taking up space until I have to take them to Goodwill to make room for more new clothes."

Quinn sighed in defeat. She didn't like feeling like a charity case, but she also couldn't justify spending any of her meager savings on clothing she would likely never have occasion to wear again. "Fine."

Rachel clapped her hands happily. "Splendid."

"Why does Rachel owe you a dress?" Santana questioned.

Rachel swung her gaze to her friend and blushed slightly. "Oh, I managed to damage Quinn's dress when we were in Vegas."

"She ripped the straps off," Brittany, who had remained quietly observing until this point supplied.

Santana arched and eyebrow and looked at the now fully blushing brunette. "Well, well, well, I didn't think you had it in you Berry. Maybe I have misjudged you all these years."

Rachel flushed a deeper shade of red and picked up her menu. "Let's order shall we?"

* * *

Santana dabbed her mouth with her napkin before placing it on her empty dinner plate. They had decided, in the interests of authenticity, to pretend that they were just four friends out for dinner for the duration of the meal. Now that dinner was over though, Santana had some concerns that she felt needed to be discussed.

"So you two are going to need a ton of work."

Rachel and Quinn both looked over at Santana in consternation.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel was the one to finally ask. "We were fine."

Santana shook her head. "You were fine if you were supposed to be two complete strangers on a first date. You are not fine for two people that are supposed to be so madly in love you ran off and eloped without telling your family and mere days after the break-up of a year long relationship." Santana gestured between herself and the blonde sitting next to her. "Brittany and I have more chemistry then you two, and this is only like the third time we have been together. You two have been living together for almost a week, how have you been spending the time?"

"I've been working a lot," Quinn replied a little defensively.

Rachel nodded her head in agreement. "And I have been following my normal rigorous training and practice schedule."

Santana rolled her eyes at the two and shook her head. "Well both of you are going to have to make some changes, because in your current state you won't be convincing anyone of your inability to keep your hands off each other."

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at her friend. She didn't like receiving a less than flattering critique of her performance. "And just what do you suggest that we do?"

Santana smiled broadly and sat back in her chair. "Well I'm so glad that you asked since I do have a few ideas about that. First of all you are both going to have to make time to get to know each other. This current arrangement where you both never see each other is clearly not working. Rachel that means that you are going to have to adjust your sacred schedule and make sure you pencil in some "date time" with Quinn until you guys are comfortable with each other." Rachel frowned at the prospect but remained silent, knowing that her friend was right. She had spent virtually no time with her new house guest and she knew basically nothing about her, and apparently it showed.

Santana turned to address Quinn. "And it means you are going to have to cut back on your work shifts."

"I need the money," Quinn protested stubbornly. "In case you've forgotten I have a child I am trying to ensure that I keep, and lawyers aren't cheap."

"I haven't forgotten," Santana replied. "In fact that reminds me. I talked to someone today about your situation and he said that while it isn't his area of expertise he will get back to me on Monday with some suggestions after he asks around his firm."

Quinn smiled, some of the worry she felt about the situation lifting when she learned that Santana had actually followed through on her promise like she said she would.

"Who did you talk to?" Rachel inquired. Almost all of Santana's contacts were people that she had met through Rachel, so it was very likely that Rachel knew whoever she had spoken to. Rachel just hoped it wasn't someone that was close with her father.

"Ben Richards," Santana replied with a slight smirk, knowing that the name would strike a chord with the brunette.

Strike a chord it did and Rachel frowned at the revelation. Of all the people that Santana could have approached it figured that she would pick one of her father's closest friends. Rachel glared at her entirely too self satisfied friend. "There was no one else you could think to ask?"

"What's the matter?" Quinn interjected with concern, some of her worry returning. "Is he not good or something?"

Santana shook her head. "Oh no, he's great, a real stand up guy. He's almost like family to Rachel."

"Yes, this is the very problem since I didn't want my fathers' to find out about this whole situation."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Like that is ever going to happen. Better it happen sooner rather than later."

"It wasn't your call Santana," Rachel replied crossly.

"Whatever. It's done now, and there is no way to undo it, so you are just going to have to figure out what to tell your dads when they call."

Rachel sat back in her chair with a pout, not happy with Santana's actions, but accepting that there was nothing she could do about them now.

Santana turned her attention once more to Quinn. "So with adequate legal counsel likely right around the corner, you should be able cut back on your hours with no problem."

While Quinn was relieved to learn that she might have a new lawyer secured that didn't really solve her money concerns. "Just because I have a lawyer doesn't mean I won't have to pay them."

"Well if my hunch is correct about who Ben is going to talk to, money shouldn't be an issue."

Quinn creased her brow in confusion, not understanding the Latina's vague reference, but seeing the fierce scowl on Rachel's face, decided to let the matter drop for now. "Even so, the more money I can earn the better."

Santana let out a sigh of irritation. "Look if money is that much of an issue maybe we can sit down and figure out how much on average you would be missing out on and Rachel could make up the difference."

Quinn felt her cheeks bloom with color as her anger rose. "I thought we had already established that I'm not a prostitute."

"It's not like she'd be paying you to have sex with her, just to devote more time to making your act convincing. Think of it as an acting gig."

"She still doesn't need to pay me. We agreed that we would both get something out of pretending to be a genuine couple. You have already agreed to help arrange legal counsel. She is letting me live in her apartment rent free and now wants to let me raid her wardrobe. For her to also start _paying_me on top of all that is just too much, it's too unequal. I'm not some charity case."

"Look, I'm just trying to make sure this whole thing doesn't blow up in our faces. It is pretty common knowledge in show circles that Rachel has money, and it's going to look extremely odd for her new wife to be pulling triple shifts at some dive diner. It's bad enough you work there at all."

"I'm sorry my job is such an embarrassment for you," Quinn spat out sharply.

"She's just trying to help Quinn," Brittany interjected softly.

Quinn swiveled her head and glared at her friend. "Don't defend her; you're supposed to be on my side. In case you forgot you work at the same _dive_that I do."

"I'm not defending her, but she does have a point. It looks a little odd for you to continue to kill yourself working triples at the diner if your wife is capable of taking care of you."

Quinn threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine. I'll just quit my job, let Rachel support me, and have everyone conclude that I'm just a gold digger."

"They'll probably think that anyway," Rachel muttered quietly to herself.

Quinn heard the comment and turned to look at the brunette with a frown. "Why would you say that?"

Realizing she was being addressed and that she had spoken her thoughts out loud Rachel blushed lightly and shook her head. "Well I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships."

"There's an understatement," Santana uttered quietly with an eye roll. Brittany scowled at the Latina and hit her lightly on the arm.

"I think most people will just assume you are after me for my money, it would make the most sense," Rachel concluded with a matter of fact shrug of her shoulders. After her latest disaster of a relationship with Jesse, Rachel was beginning to think she just wasn't destined to have a meaningful, genuine relationship with anyone. Almost everyone she had been involved with had turned out to have an ulterior motive; at least Quinn's was out in the open from the start.

"Which is all the more reason that we need to make sure you guys come off as genuinely in love," Santana interjected. "The last thing we need swirling are rumors about how Quinn is just taking advantage of you."

Quinn, who was still looking intently at the brunette beside her, felt a pang of sympathy for the other woman. In her short time staying with Rachel she had only ever seen the woman be supremely self-confident and sure of herself. To see this more self doubting side made Quinn realize there was more to the other woman than she had originally thought.

"I just don't feel right taking your money," Quinn told Rachel.

Rachel nodded her head. "I know, and I appreciate that, but Santana is right. If we are going to be convincing about this, it's going to take a lot of time and preparation, and it's hardly fair that you should suffer financially because of it." Rachel smiled at the blonde, who was now biting her lip, clearly at war with herself over the issue. Rachel reached out and rested her hand on Quinn's.

"It's clear that you are not after me for my money, which is why I am more than happy to give it to you. Besides it's not like you won't be working, I have been told many times that spending any amount of time with me can be quite trying," Rachel quipped with a smile.

"It really is," Santana interjected.

Quinn smiled at the levity and met Rachel's gaze. "Are you really okay with this? I don't want you to feel obligated too because Santana suggested it."

"I'm really sure," Rachel reassured her. "When this all goes according to plan, I will have even more money I don't know what to do with; it's only fair that you get a cut of it. Think of it as an advance." Rachel smiled brightly. "Plus when Libby gets home you will be able to spend even more time with her."

Rachel could see from Quinn's expression that the mention of Libby had tipped the scale in favor of Quinn agreeing. With a resigned sigh Quinn nodded her head.

"Okay." Rachel smiled brightly while Santana just smirked in satisfaction. "But I'm not going to quit entirely."

"I never asked you to quit, just that you cut back," Santana argued. "However, will you at least consider looking for a different job?"

Quinn pursed her lips, giving the idea some thought, before finally nodding. She had only taken the job at the diner because it allowed her to have a relatively flexible schedule, so that she could spend time with Libby during the day. Now that Libby was getting a bit older she wouldn't mind the opportunity to look for a more stable, not to mention better paying job.

"Well now that that's settled I think you two need to go practice touching each other."

"Santana!"

"Excuse me?"

Santana just smiled at the startled reactions from the other two women. "Calm down, I wasn't talking about _that. _Although I do think it would do you both a world of good. I just mean that you two need to get comfortable with causal, every day touching."

"And just how do you suggest we go about that?" Rachel questioned.

"Well since this place has a dance floor I was thinking you could try that. Besides, when you start going to parties with her, you know that is going to be expected, you might as well get some practice in now."

Rachel had to admit that Santana had a point. Plus escaping to the dance floor would give her a respite from her friend's continued "helpful" advice. She pushed back from the table and held out a hand to Quinn. "Shall we?"

Quinn smiled slightly and grasped the brunette's smaller hand in her own, letting Rachel lead them to the small dance floor. Once there they faced each other, slightly awkward now that they were alone. The music that the restaurant was playing was fairly sedate and nothing like the music they had danced to in Vegas.

"Who should lead?" Quinn asked after they both made a few aborted attempts to place their hands in the proper position.

Rachel bit her lip and considered the question before concluding, "You, I think. You're taller." That question settled Quinn reached out to place one hand lightly on Rachel's hip while grasping the brunette's hand with her other. Rachel reached up and rested her free hand on Quinn's shoulder and the two started swaying gently to the music.

"I'm sorry about Santana, she can be a little over bearing until you get to know her."

Quinn smiled and shook her head softly. "It's fine, she's just looking out for you and trying to make sure this all doesn't end in disaster."

"Well I still apologize for how tactless she was."

Quinn shrugged. "She was right, and sometimes I need someone to slap some sense into me. I tend to be a bit stubborn at times."

"So you're really okay with everything?" Rachel was worried that the blonde had felt pressured to agree to the revision in the plan.

Quinn thought about it briefly before nodding. "I will be. I mean it's not like I saw myself as a waitress forever. At the time it was ideal for my situation with Libby, but now that I have a little bit of breathing room and a kind of safety net, I think this is actually going to be for the best."

Since the pair had started talking the awkwardness that had been present when they first entered the dance floor had vanished and they were moving together fluidly without even realizing it.

"What type of job do you think you would be happy doing?"

"Well I was going to college to be a business major, but even working as waitress I have come to realize that I really do enjoy food service." Quinn shrugged. "At this point I'm not really sure but I'm sure I'll figure it out."

The two women had been so focused on their conversation that they hadn't noticed their dinner companions join them on the dance floor.

"You two are dancing like you are at a junior high dance and you are afraid chaperone is going to bust you for dancing too closely together."

Rachel turned to her head to glare at her friend over her shoulder. "We were doing just fine. Why don't you just worry about your own dance partner?"

Santana grinned and ran her eyes appraisingly over Quinn, causing Rachel to frown. "Are you sure? Because I would be more than happy to show you how it's done."

Rachel frowned more deeply and unconsciously wrapped her hand more tightly around Quinn's shoulder's, drawing the blonde closer to her. "I'm sure," Rachel replied flatly.

"Okay, okay," Santana placated. "I was just trying to be helpful."

"Well as I said, we are doing just fine and do not require your assistance."

Santana shrugged and twirled away from the couple.

"That wasn't very nice," Brittany scolded the Latina.

Santana met the blonde's disapproving gaze and shrugged unconcerned. "I had a hunch and I wanted to see if it was accurate."

"And what hunch is that?"

"That those two might actually like each other."

Brittany paused and then looked thoughtfully over at the pair. "Do you think?" For Brittany it was hard to gauge Quinn's reaction. The other blonde usually played her emotions close to the vest. Plus, in all the time that Brittany had known her, Quinn really hadn't dated all that much, so it was hard to tell when she was interested in someone.

Santana nodded. "I do. At least on Rachel's part. Did you see how she glared and pulled Quinn a little closer when I suggested cutting in?"

Brittany had noticed, and she hadn't appreciated the appreciative and assessing gaze that Santana had bestowed upon her friend. "I did."

Santana smirked. "Yeah I think Berry might just be developing a little crush."

"And that's a good thing?" Brittany questioned.

Santana nodded. "I think that could be a very good thing."

* * *

Rachel slipped her key into the lock and opened the door to her apartment. She tossed her keys onto the small table by the door and gratefully kicked her shoes off. Turning she ensured that Quinn was still following behind her. The blonde had started to flag and Rachel had called an end to the evening, even though Santana had protested that they needed all the practice that they could get.

"Are you feeling okay?" Rachel asked in concern, flipping on a light as she made her way into the kitchen. Santana had insisted that they go to a club after leaving restaurant and Rachel was in desperate need of a drink.

Quinn yawned hugely before covering her mouth. "Fine. Just tired."

Rachel could believe it, the blonde's eyes were drooping where she stood, looking half asleep on her feet. Walking into the kitchen she tossed her small purse onto the center island and made her way to the refrigerator.

"Well, you will at least be able to sleep in tomorrow," Rachel replied with a small smile. Reaching in and removing the water pitcher from the shelf.

Quinn nodded and pulled out a stool to sit on. "Right. No 6 AM wake up call."

Rachel poured a glass of water for herself, and one for Quinn. Sitting down beside the blonde she reached over to pull her purse closer to her. Unsnapping it she reached inside to fish out her phone. She had turned it off earlier, wanting to make sure her undivided attention was on Quinn and making sure they appeared to be a real couple.

Taking a sip of water she promptly started to choke when she turned her phone on and saw that she had almost a dozen missed messages. This could in no way be a good sign.

When the brunette started to splutter, Quinn reached over instinctively and started to pat on the back. When the coughing fit subsided her hand went from patting to rubbing in soothing circles.

"Are you okay?" Quinn questioned worriedly.

"Fine," Rachel managed to croak out. Opening up her inbox she confirmed her worst fears. "Oh crap."

"What?" Quinn asked, concerned by the look of panic on the brunette's face.

"I think my dads' found out about us," Rachel replied flatly.


	7. Chapter 7 - Meet the Berrys

AN: Here's the next bit - to all the anon reviewers that I can't PM - Thank you for taking the time to read and review - it is much appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Meet the Berrys**

Quinn ran her hands nervously down the front of her dress, another "borrowed" outfit from Rachel, and wondered yet again if she had hooked herself up with a complete lunatic. When Rachel had received the series of texts from her fathers last night, and concluded that they must have learned about the marriage, Quinn figured the diminutive brunette would realize that her plan to keep their arrangement a secret would be futile. Wrong.

While Rachel had conceded that the marriage was now impossible to conceal, she was still determined to keep the exact details of the arrangement from her parents.

x-x-x-x-x-x

_"Wouldn't it just be so much easier to tell them the truth?"_

_"Easier perhaps, but I have never been one to just seek out the easy solution to a problem Quinn."_

_"Clearly," Quinn muttered under her breath._

_Running her hands through her hair in frustration, Quinn blew out an agitated breath. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until noon. She did not want to stay up and engage in planning an elaborate plot to convince Rachel's fathers that the two of them were genuinely married._

_"I just don't understand why you want to lie to them. I mean, from all that you have said they are really supportive, so why the need to convince them that we're something we're not. Are you afraid they are going to freak out or something?"_

_Rachel looked off into space vacantly, a small frown gracing her lips before shaking her head and meeting Quinn's gaze. "Not freak out, no. I read those texts Quinn. They are clearly a little miffed that I didn't tell them about us, but at the core of it they are happy for me. If I call them and tell them that this is all just a big misunderstanding they are going to be so disappointed."_

_Quinn frowned, not following Rachel's rather convoluted logic. "But they won't be disappointed that you have lied to them and deceived them?"_

_Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw in a stubborn line. "Not if they don't find out about it."_

_Quinn released a resigned sigh. "Won't they just be more disappointed at the end of the year, or however long, when we eventually break up? It seems like just telling them upfront will be the less disappointing of the two options."_

_Rachel started pacing back and forth in front of the couch. "You just don't understand."_

_"You're right, I really don't. Why don't you explain it to me?"_

_Rachel remained silent for a few more moments of agitated pacing before she threw her hands up in the air in a flourish. "It's humiliating, okay? "_

_"Humiliating?"_

_"Yes Quinn, humiliating. I would rather not go to my fathers and explain that just like my last, this relationship is also a sham." Quinn furrowed her brow in confusion. She knew that Rachel had recently broken up with her girlfriend, that in fact was the reason she and Santana had gone to Vegas to blow off some steam, but she had never pressed for any details._

_Seeming to sense Quinn's confusion, Rachel elaborated. "I guess I might as well tell you as it's bound to come up eventually. I'm sure you've heard Santana mention Jesse a few times." Quinn nodded in the affirmative and Rachel continued. "Well she has been kind enough to avoid revealing, so far, the details of the breakup."_

_"I remember a little of what you told me in Vegas; that she left you after she landed some part you were both going after."_

_Rachel nodded her head. "That's correct."_

_"Rachel that doesn't make your relationship a sham, it just makes her an opportunist."_

_"If that's all there was to the story then I would tend to agree with you." Rachel bit her lip, clearly reluctant to divulge the rest of the story. Finally with a sigh she sank back onto the couch beside Quinn in defeat. "We never had sex."_

_Quinn looked at the woman next to her in surprise. "Oh…well...I mean that's not that unusual," Quinn hedged. At Rachel's clearly disbelieving look Quinn adopted a sheepish expression and she shrugged. "Okay I'll admit it isn't typical of most relationships, but just because she wanted to wait doesn't mean that the whole thing was a sham." Quinn winced; even to her own ears the excuse seemed flimsy._

_Rachel rolled her head to the side to gaze at the blonde. "Santana is pretty sure she wasn't even gay."_

_Quinn rolled her eyes at the mention of the Latina. "And what makes Santana so sure of that?"_

_"She landed the role by sleeping with the director, the male director."_

_Quinn bit her lip, a wash of sympathy flooding through her at the brunette's dejected air. She reached out and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well that just reinforces the fact that she was an opportunist."_

_Rachel shrugged. "Either way I wasted a year of my life with someone who clearly didn't value our relationship, genuine or not." Rachel laughed softly. "Now I'm supposed to go and tell them that my marriage is just the result of a drunken mistake turned business merger? I just can't face their disappointment, or worse, their acceptance that that seems a much more likely explanation for what they heard than me meeting someone that just couldn't wait to marry me."_

_Quinn could feel her resolve weakening. "I just think this is a really bad idea."_

_Rachel looked at the blonde with pleading eyes. "Please? I will take full responsibility if this blows up in our faces? I'll owe you one."_

_Quinn breathed deeply. She already owned Rachel so much and the brunette was really just asking that they extend their charade to encompass her family. Against her better judgment, she reluctantly agreed. "Fine."_

x-x-x-x-x-x

So now Quinn found herself in front of her in-laws front door with her wife, a concept she was still having a hard time getting used to, about to join them for brunch. She looked at the brunette standing at her side who was nervously chewing on her lip. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? We still have time to come clean."

Rachel squared her shoulders and nodded her head resolutely. "Yes, I want to do this. It will be good practice; if we can convince my parents, we should be able to convince anyone."

Quinn quirked her eyebrow and sent the singer an incredulous look. "We couldn't even convince Santana."

Rachel waived her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Even if we had been flawless Santana would have found reasons why our performance was flawed." Rachel turned and met the blonde's nervous gaze. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Quinn replied fatalistically. Quinn felt the brunette grasp her hand firmly and she looked down at their joined hands.

"It's to be expected that two newlyweds would want to have some form of physical contact. Especially in a situation that is bound to create a certain level of stress such as meeting your significant other's parents for the first time," Rachel answered the unasked question in the blonde's eyes.

Quinn bobbed her head up and down. "Right. Good call. Makes sense." When Rachel reached forward with her free hand to open the door Quinn tugged her backwards slightly. "You aren't going to knock?"

Rachel looked at her in confusion. "It's my parents' house, why would I knock?"

Quinn swallowed nervously and nodded. "Right, of course." Quinn couldn't imagine just walking in to her parents' house unannounced. She had done it once, on her first and only break home from college, and had received a lecture on propriety and etiquette. She hadn't been back since.

* * *

Rachel tightened her grip on Quinn's hand, partly to ensure that the blonde didn't make a dash for it, and partly to ground herself. She had been trying to project an air of confidence where this newest twist was concerned, but inside she was more than a little doubtful about their ability to convince her fathers.

They had never been big fans of Jesse's, and had been fairly open about the fact. She hadn't told Quinn this, not wanting to make the blonde any more nervous than she already was. Rachel was more than a little afraid that her parents would take an immediate dislike to Quinn based on the hastiness of their union.

"Dad? Daddy?" Rachel called out, closing the door behind her and Quinn. She noticed that Quinn looked a bit pale and she smiled reassuringly, leading her down the hallway toward the interior of the apartment.

"In the kitchen," her dad called out. Having a direction she walked purposefully toward her destination; it was best to show no hesitancy or fear, even if she wasn't quite feeling it. Rachel stopped just short of the kitchen doorway and turned back to smile encouragingly at Quinn one last time.

"It's going to be fine." Rachel bit her lip nervously. It was now or never. "They may be a little hard on you at first, but don't let them get to you. They are both really teddy bears on the inside."

Quinn's already pale complexion blanched a couple of shades lighter. Rachel gave her one last grin and dragged her forward before the blonde could back out. She hadn't wanted to warn Quinn about her fathers' possible frostiness too far in advance for fear that the other woman would refuse to go along with the charade.

"Ah the prodigal daughter returns," her dad called out when she finally crossed the threshold.

Rachel rolled her eyes playfully and dropped Quinn's hand to go greet her parent. Reaching up, she wrapped her dad in a hug, making sure to keep her torso from pressing up too tightly against his; he was in full chef mode and both her and her daddy liked to joke that no one could wreck a kitchen in under ten minutes quite like her dad.

She slapped him lightly on the arm as she pulled out of the hug. "It's hardly been that long since I've been by," she defended lightly.

Her dad glanced around her to shoot a laden look at the blonde standing nervously near the doorway. "Long enough," he answered with a raised eyebrow.

Rachel smiled somewhat nervously, and walked back over to Quinn. Grasping the blonde's hand once again she dragged her forward. "Judging by the tone of your brunch invite, I can safely assume that you already know who this is. Quinn, my Dad, Leroy Berry. Dad, Quinn….my wife." Rachel pushed Quinn forward slightly, proud of herself that she had hardly even hesitated over the delivery. She was sure her father hadn't picked up on it, and if he had he would probably attribute it to her love of dramatics.

Her dad wiped his hand slowly on a nearby dishtowel and reached out offer a handshake to Quinn. Quinn reached out to grasp his hand, and when he still hadn't spoken, she took the initiative.

"Pleasure," her voice cracking slightly with nerves she cleared her throat, "pleasure to meet you Mr. Berry."

"Mmmm," Rachel's Dad hummed noncommittally, staring the fidgeting blonde straight in the eye. He finally dropped Quinn's hand and Rachel wasted no time in reclaiming it and pulling her back, and away from her suddenly mute parent.

Looking around the kitchen Rachel asked, "Where's Daddy?"

Her father nodded his head in the direction of the dining room. "Setting the table, he wanted to make sure we used our good dishes for company." The tone in which he said it made it clear that he hadn't agreed with that sentiment.

"Oh, there was no need to go to any trouble on my part," Quinn hastened to assure Rachel's father.

"That's what I told him, but he insisted," Leroy replied, still doing his best to stare down Quinn. Seeing the death glare his daughter was shooting him, he emitted a half laugh. "I mean you're family right?"

Quinn smiled weakly and nodded her head. Rachel shot her father another scowling glare. "Dad be nice," she admonished.

Leroy raised both of his eyebrows and placed his hand on his chest in a gesture of innocence. "Am I not being nice?"

"Mmmm," Rachel responded, throwing her father's earlier reply back at him. Before Leroy could volley another reply, Hiram Berry entered the room with a smile, his arms outstretched.

"I thought I heard your voice," Hiram said happily, walking over to wrap his daughter in a hug and kissing her on the cheek. Glancing over at his husband he scolded lightly, "Why didn't you tell me they had arrived?"

"They just got here," Leroy defended himself while pulling off his apron and hanging it up. "Just in time too, brunch is finally ready."

"Before we all hurry off to eat," Rachel interjected; knowing that between her two parents, Leroy was going to be the harder of the two to win over. She was hoping that her Daddy would make up for her Dad's somewhat frost greeting. "Daddy, Quinn. Quinn this is my Daddy, Hiram Berry."

"Pleasure to meet you Quinn," Hiram greeted the blonde warmly and Rachel let out a sigh of relief.

Quinn smiled back, and reached out to grasp the offered hand. "Likewise."

Hiram nodded, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. Leroy began to gather up some of the serving dishes that were waiting on the kitchen island. Quinn quickly moved to help carry some of the dishes into the other room, which earned her a surprised look from Leroy.

Rachel smiled slightly to herself. Jesse had never offered to help when she had visited the Berrys with Rachel; and had often wondered aloud, on more than one occasion, why they didn't have any hired help.

Once all of the dishes had been transported to the dining room the foursome took their respective seats. Since the table could easily seat twelve, the small group had gathered towards one end, Rachel and Quinn sitting on one side, with Leroy and Hiram sitting across from them.

"Would you like to say grace Quinn," Leroy asked, breaking the silence that had descended.

"Oh...um…if you want me to," Quinn answered, clearly flustered by the request.

Rachel shot her father a questioning glance. "Since when do we say grace?"

Leroy looked at his daughter, his face a mask of faux innocence. "Oh I just wasn't sure if it was a custom that…Quinn, isn't it?" Upon his daughter's muted nod he continued, "If it's one that she observed. We just know so little about her."

Rachel pursed her lips in annoyance and tossed her napkin on to her plate. "If this is how you are going to be the entire time, Quinn and I will just leave now." Rachel pushed back her chair, preparing to stand. Quinn sat wide eyed in her seat, afraid to move and not entirely sure what was going to happen next.

Hiram smiled reassuringly at the nervous blonde, well used to his husband's and daughter's theatrics, especially when the two of them got together. "Rachel we want you and Quinn to stay." Hiram sent a meaningful look to his husband. "I'm sure now that your dad has gotten that out of his system, he will be much better from here on out." The implied, 'or else' was easy to discern. "We are just still in shock from the news. You can imagine that it's not every day that one of your dad's co-workers comes up to him and asks why he's not handling his own daughter's custody hearing."

Rachel flushed at the chastisement, knowing that learning about his daughter's "marriage and family" second hand had to sting. Adopting a contrite expression, one that she didn't even have to dig deeply for, she faced her fathers. It was show time.

"I know I should have told you both right away, I just didn't know how to tell you."

"How about from the beginning. Less than a month ago you were still with that jackass Jesse. Now you show up married, to someone we have never met, and with a step-daughter. You can forgive us if we were a bit taken aback by the news and not quite sure how to respond," Leroy interjected.

Rachel flushed and sent her father an apologetic smile. "I know, I know, I can't say I'm sorry enough."

"We don't want your apologies Rachel, what's done is done." Rachel felt a pang at how hurt her fathers' clearly were over this whole thing. When she had first agreed to the plan, and made the decision to not tell them, she thought she was protecting them. She hadn't thought through the fact that when they did find out, undoubtedly from someone else, that they would be terribly hurt that she hadn't come to them directly. In hindsight, both Santana and Quinn had tried to warn her about this, but she had been too caught up in the belief that she could somehow keep this from them for the duration of the marriage.

"Well I'm sorry anyway." Looking around at the cooling food, and the blonde sitting like a deer in the headlights next to her, Rachel decided that it was time to start eating, if only to give everyone something else to partly focus on instead of the conversation that needed to be had. "How about I tell you both over brunch? That is why you invited us over, right?"

Leroy looked like he wanted to argue and insist that Rachel tell them what was going on before eating, but Hiram placing a calming hand on his forearm stalled anything he might want to say. "Exactly right, plus we don't want all of your dad's hard work in the kitchen to go to waste." Turning his attention to the still silent blonde Hiram smiled. "Can you please pass the eggs Quinn?"

With the tension broken, the quartet started to pass the dishes around until all of their plates were heaped with food. Rachel wasted no time digging in, mostly to delay the inevitable talk that she knew was coming. As she was eagerly eating, she noticed that Quinn was barely picking at her food. The blonde pushed her food around a bit before flicking her gaze up, and across the table, before quickly diverting her attention back to her plate. Brow creased, Rachel followed the blonde's line of sight to see her dad staring across the table at Quinn, not blinking, as he methodically chewed his food.

Shooting her father a warning glare, Rachel reached over and covered the hand Quinn held resting on the table, nervously picking at her napkin. Quinn jerked her gaze up to meet Rachel's, startled by the action. Rachel smiled at the blonde and gave her hand a squeeze, silently hoping to convey that it would be alright, before releasing her grasp and returning to her breakfast.

Deciding it was now or never, Rachel cleared her throat. "So we might as well address the white elephant in the room. You two have obviously heard from Ben Richards that Quinn and I are married and in the midst of a custody dispute with her parents."

Leroy's eyebrows hiked up at the blunt statement. "Nothing like getting right to the heart of the matter."

Rachel took a bite of egg and chewed it slowly. "What would be the point in talking around it?" she asked rhetorically. "Dad I know how much you like posing pointed questions so why don't you just ask, and I'll answer them."

"Well if you insist." Rachel did her best not to fidget when she saw the predatory smirk cross her dad's face. She knew that look quite well; it was the one he wore just before going for the jugular in a court trial. Hiram looked over and gave his husband a warning look; he had seen the expression and knew what it meant as well.

"Honey, please try to remember that this is our daughter, and not some negligent parent that we will never have to see again. I would like her to still be speaking to us at the end of this."

Leroy had the good grace to look slightly abashed, and Rachel was relieved to see that the out for blood look toned down by several notches after her daddy's warning. Steepling his fingers over his plate, Leroy leaned forward until his lips rested against his two index fingers. He looked thoughtful back and forth between the two women before pushing back slightly and dropping his hands.

"I guess the most pressing question on our mind is how you could go from a relationship with Jesse, to not just a new relationship, but a marriage in under a month."

Rachel reached for her coffee cup and took a sip, taking the time to marshal her thoughts. Placing the cup crisply back on the table, she raised her gaze to meet her father's directly as she answered the question. She needed there to be no doubt in their mind about the sincerity of her answers, and refusing to make eye contact was a sure sign of lying. Of course she had learned all she knew about detecting lies from the very father she was about to lie to, so she was hoping her acting ability could carry her.

"We have known each other for quite some time. So while the shift in the nature of our relationship is certainly a recent development, we are hardly strangers."

"So you were cheating on Jesse?" her father questioned bluntly.

"I most certainly was not!" Rachel retorted indignantly. "We were nothing more than friends…good friends…until my relationship with Jesse ended."

Her father gave her a probing glance. "So you would still be with Jesse if she hadn't cheated on you?" He sent Quinn a pitying look. "That doesn't speak very highly to the depth of your feelings for Quinn."

Rachel scowled at her father. "I didn't say that, stop trying to put words in my mouth." Rachel was beginning to see why all of the other attorneys hated going up against her father in court. The man was relentless, and he liked twisting peoples' words. "I had come to realize that my feelings for Quinn were much deeper than they ever had been, or could be for Jesse." She took a moment to clasp the blonde's hand and look at her adoringly before turning to face her father, being sure to leave her hand over Quinn's.

"I was going to end it with Jesse, I was just trying to do it in a way that wouldn't cause undue pain or embarrassment." A wry grimace twisted Rachel's lips. "Though in hindsight I guess I needn't have worried about that."

"I never did like that girl," Leroy grumbled with a scowl. "I will never understand what you saw in her."

Rachel smiled tightly, not really wanting to rehash her relationship with Jesse, and its many shortcomings at the moment. "Well she's gone now, so we really don't need to go worry about her any longer. Was that all the questions you had? That wasn't so bad after all," Rachel quipped brightly.

Leroy arched his brow at his daughter and gave a small laugh. "You wish, I am just getting warmed up." He paused a moment to take a sip of his coffee. "I can understand you wanting to end things with Jesse but why the rush to marriage?"

Rachel licked her lips. This was going to be the trickier part of her tale. Luckily she had always been somewhat impulsive so her fathers' probably weren't _that_surprised that she would go and do something like this.

"To be honest we didn't really plan this," Rachel started.

"There's a shock," Leroy muttered sarcastically. At a warning glare from both his husband and daughter he subsided and waited for Rachel to continue.

"We decided that we could both use a mini-vacation and decided that going to Vegas for a long weekend would fit the bill nicely." Rachel had decided last night that a blending of the truth and fiction would be the least likely to catch them out in a lie. "I needed a break from all of the stress surrounding the ending of my relationship with Jesse, while I was certainly glad that it was finally done, the rumors and gossip swirling were starting to wear on my nerves." Rachel figured that playing up to her father's dislike for Jesse couldn't hurt.

"Quinn, as you know, is dealing with her own highly emotionally fraught issues, and a change of scenery seemed like it was in order." Seeing that her father was starting to get impatient waiting for her to get to the point, Rachel decided to speed up the story. "Long story short, we had a bit too much to drink and decided to get married."

Leroy frowned. "Well if that's the case why didn't you just get it annulled? Marriage is a big step Rachel, especially when there are children in the mix, it isn't something that you should take so lightly and enter into on a drunken whim," her father lectured, slipping into his courtroom persona.

Rachel knew that telling her parents that particular bit of truth was going to be risky. She had tried to find a way around it, one that her parents would believe, but she had come up blank each time. "We know that Dad." Rachel looked at Quinn once more; the blonde had remained silent and as motionless as possible during the discussion thus far. "We talked about it, getting it annulled, and in the end we decided that while it certainly hadn't happened in the most ideal manner, we were glad that it did."

Rachel resisted the urge to squirm in her seat as her father just contemplated the two of them silently. She could tell that while he likely believed her story, he was less than impressed with her decision making process. She gave a philosophical mental shrug; at least they believed her, even if they weren't supportive of the decision.

"Are you happy?" Rachel flicked her eyes in Hiram's direction. Her quieter father had remained silent during Leroy's questioning, content to let his husband get it out of his system.

Rachel nodded her head decisively. "I am. We are," she corrected herself a moment later.

"What about your daughter Quinn?" Leroy spoke again, addressing the blonde for the first time since greeting her in the kitchen.

"What about her sir?"

"Well Ben didn't have a lot of details just that my daughter, and her new _wife_, " the word dripped with sarcasm," were in need of some legal counsel because they were embroiled in a custody battle. I'm just curious about her, and what would make your parents sue you for custody." The implication that they must have had just cause for such an action was left unsaid.

Rachel started to respond to her father's unspoken rebuke but before she could Quinn slipped her hand from under her's on the table and rested it over the top, giving it a gentle squeeze, silently conveying that she would handle this.

"Her name is Elizabeth Rebecca Fabray, Libby for short. She's two and ten months, and I would do anything and everything for her." Quinn's voice had taken on a steely tone, obviously having heard Leroy's unspoken criticism as well. "My _parents," _she bit the word off like a curse, "decided that since I was gay that I was by default, an unfit parent."

Rachel smirked when she saw the fire of indignation light in her father's eyes. She knew that no matter how he may have felt about Quinn and her, he wouldn't be able to stay completely neutral when he learned why Quinn's parents were suing her for custody.

"That's ridiculous," Leroy retorted sharply. "What judge would even entertain such a silly motion?"

"They live in a very conservative part of Ohio, and they filed the papers in their jurisdiction."

Leroy grimaced, having run in to his fair share of small minded conservatives over the years. "Well why wasn't your lawyer able to get it dismissed on grounds? Any half competent first year should have been able to get such a garbage motion thrown out."

"I didn't exactly have the money for competent legal counsel. I had a legal aid attorney who didn't seem overly concerned with the case," Quinn replied bitterly.

Leroy rolled his eyes. "Useless. Most of those idiots barely passed the bar, and the ones that are competent have far too many cases." He turned his attention to his daughter with an accusing look. "And you just let her go to legal aid? Why didn't you come to me?"

Rachel held up her hands in self defense. "She didn't tell me all the details until after the judge granted her parents request."

Leroy turned his disapproving attention toward Quinn. "Is that true?"

"I didn't want to impose on Rachel. It didn't seem right to ask that much of a friend. We hadn't admitted our feelings to each other yet," Quinn replied, trying to do her best not to wilt under Leroy's attention.

Leroy rolled his eyes, much like his daughter was prone to do, and shook his head. "Well that ends now. That's what friends are for Quinn." He paused for a moment as something seemed to occur to him. He gazed back and forth between them shrewdly. "Is this why you didn't get the marriage annulled?"

Rachel grimaced; leave it to her dad to quickly read between the lines. "It played a part in the decision making process," she conceded.

Leroy smiled, the first genuine smile of the morning, and replied, "Well this is easy enough. You two can still get this annulled and Quinn I can assure you that you will not lose custody of Libby. I will see to it personally," Leroy reassured the pair confidently.

Rachel looked nervously at Quinn. She hadn't expected her father to offer that as an option, and she was afraid the blonde would jump at the opportunity. As if sensing her unease Quinn turned to look Rachel in the eye and she smiled softly and squeezed her hand again. Quinn turned to address her Leroy.

"That's a very generous, but while Libby's custody was _a_factor in our decision, it wasn't the only one. "

Leroy gave Quinn an unreadable look. "Quinn, would you mind if we spoke to our daughter alone for a minute?"

Rachel felt Quinn shift in her seat, as if preparing to do as requested, and she immediately put a hand on the blonde's forearm to stall her movement. "Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Quinn," Rachel argued. It was time that her parents got used to them as a unit. Plus if she knew her dad, she would likely want back up for this particular talk.

Quinn turned to talk to the brunette. "Really Rachel I don't mind, you and your dads should talk privately." Rachel was sure the blonde was simply eager to escape what she was sure was bound to be an uncomfortable conversation. Well Rachel wasn't having any of it.

Tightening her grip on the other woman's forearm Rachel smiled sweetly. "No sweetie, I insist." Quinn winced slightly at the pressure and Rachel let off a little; she wanted to make the woman stay, not scar her.

Leroy looked like he wanted to insist, but he shrugged his shoulders. "If that's the way you want it." He looked Rachel square in the eye. "How do you know she's not just using you for your connections and money? You have to admit that this is all awfully convenient and fortuitous for her. She goes from not having enough money to hire a decent lawyer, to married to someone, after a drunken weekend, that has all the money and connections she could ever hope to need to secure custody."

Rachel felt a white hot flash of anger race through her system at her father's words. I mean sure, at the core of it that was exactly what her and Quinn's relationship was, but her parents didn't know that, and for her father to think so little of her was just insulting. "Is it really so hard to imagine that she might just want to be with _me_?" Rachel spat out angrily.

"Of course not sweetie," Hiram hastened to assure his upset offspring. Shooting Leroy a quelling glare he continued. "It's just that your dad is pointing out that Quinn seems to have an awful lot to gain by your…sudden nuptials."

"Really? Because it sounds like you two don't think I am capable of making intelligent decisions in my personal life," Rachel retorted hotly. She knew on some level she was blowing this all out of proportion. She had expected questions along these lines, but she was finding actually being confronted with them much harder to handle than she had anticipated.

"Well you have to admit your track record of late hasn't been the greatest. First Jesse, now this," Leroy accused.

Rachel felt her cheeks flush with heat. "Jesse has nothing to do with this!" she cried. She had never told her fathers all of the details of her and Jesse's relationship, and she was never gladder of that fact than now.

Sensing the brunette's anger about to boil over, and fearing that she may say something she would later regret, Quinn decided to interject. "Mr. and Mr. Berry, I can assure you that I am not after Rachel's money." Seeing the skepticism written on Leroy's face Quinn added, "I even signed papers to that effect."

Shifting his focus from his still steaming daughter Leroy turned to look at Quinn. "Papers?"

"Yes," Rachel interrupted triumphantly. "Quinn was more than happy to sign a post-nuptial agreement relinquishing claim to any of my money." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her father in challenge.

"I must say I'm rather surprised and pleased that you would think of such a thing," Leroy responded.

Rachel quirked her lips in a light frown. "Actually it was Santana's idea."

Leroy nodded his head. "That makes much more sense. I always knew I liked that girl. I always thought you two would make a cute couple."

Rachel grimaced. "Dad! Ewww, shes's like a sister to me." A delicate shudder ran through Rachel's body at the thought.

"What?" Leroy protested. "She's got a good head on her shoulders, is very attractive, why not her?"

Rachel held up a hand, pleading with her father to stop talking. "Stop. Please. Besides, I'm with Quinn now, so that's why not her."

Leroy conceded the point with a tilt of his head in Rachel's direction. "Even if she's not after your money, there are other ways she could be taking advantage. I mean look at Jesse." Leroy seemed unwilling to let the matter drop.

Rachel gritted her teeth and prayed for patience. "I would really be perfectly happy if you _never_brought Jesse up again. But just to clear that matter up, do you really think the only way I would agree to help Quinn is if I were married to her? You said it yourself, that's what friends do. Marriage or no marriage, I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that Libby stay's with her mom where she belongs."

Even as Rachel was saying it she realized that it was absolutely true. If tomorrow this whole thing blew up in their faces and they had to come clean, she would still make sure that Quinn had the legal counsel she needed to retain custody of her daughter.

Leroy looked like he wanted to argue the point further, but a hand on his shoulder from Hiram kept him silent.

"Leroy I think you are just going to have to accept that our baby is all grown up, and even if you don't like or approve of some of her decisions, you have to accept them." Hiram turned to Quinn with a smile. "Welcome to the family Quinn."

Quinn smiled warmly in return. "Thank you Mr. Berry."

Hiram waved his hand dismissively. "Please, you're part of the family now, call me Hiram."

Quinn nodded her head. "Thank you Hiram."

"You can still call me Mr. Berry," Leroy chimed in.

"Dad be nice!" Rachel scolded. Before she could launch into a proper lecture about how he was really going to have to change his attitude towards Quinn a phone ringing intruded. The three Berrys looked around in confusion, it wasn't one of theirs. All eyes turned to Quinn, who flushed in embarrassment at having her phone interrupt.

Taking it out of her pocket she glanced quickly at the screen before frowning. She looked at Rachel apologetically. "I'm sorry; I really need to take this. It's my parents, something might be wrong with Libby."

Rachel nodded understandingly. "Of course. If you want some privacy my old room is down the hall, second door on the left." Smiling her gratitude Quinn quickly jumped up from the table and answered the call. Rachel could hear her muffled 'hello' as she walked down the hall in the direction Rachel had indicated.

Feeling her fathers' questioning gazes on her Rachel turned back to look them. "Ben didn't tell you?"

Leroy shook his head. "I don't think Ben got all that much information. All he told me was that my daughter and her wife were looking for help with a custody dispute. I was a little too stunned by the news to grill him for details," Leroy responded a little sourly.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said again. She had a feeling she would be apologizing quite a bit for her neglecting to tell her fathers about her marriage first. Shaking her head she got back to the matter at hand. "Libby is currently spending the month with her grandparents." Sensing her fathers' unasked question Rachel elaborated, "Court ordered." She smiled when she heard Leroy grumble something about idiot judges under his breath. "They are scheduled to bring her back next weekend. Quinn has been on tenterhooks waiting for her return." Rachel hadn't actually talked in detail with the blonde about her missing Libby, but she could imagine that any parent would be anxious for their child's return.

"What about you?" Hiram questioned softly.

Rachel looked at her father in surprise, caught off guard by the question. "Excuse me?"

Hiram crinkled his brow slightly. "I know you haven't probably had time to bond as deeply with her as Quinn yet, but you must be missing her too."

Rachel frowned briefly before nodding quickly. "Of course." She couldn't very well tell her parents that she had never even met the child.

When ten minutes had passed and Quinn still hadn't returned Rachel was starting to get worried. She looked at her fathers and pushed back from the table. "I'm going to go check on her." Before she could completely stand her daddy waived for her to take her seat.

"Let me go." Rachel hesitated a moment, unsure if she could let one of her dads be alone with Quinn. Seeing the genuine concern in Hiram's eyes she relented and retook her seat with a nod of accent. If it had to be one of her dads at least it was her daddy. Plus he was a pediatrician, if it was something medical maybe he could help reassure Quinn.

* * *

Quinn sat on what she assumed was Rachel's childhood bed, at least she hoped so based on the overly pink and flowery comforter, and resisted the urge to hurl her phone against the wall. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that she wouldn't be able to afford to replace the device if she broke it. Well that and the fact that she was pretty sure that the wallpaper in this room cost more than a week's pay.

Even in what was clearly a child's room, the furnishings were top quality and obviously expensive. Quinn had thought that Rachel's apartment was opulent, but it was nothing compared to her parents home. She had felt immediately out of place, a feeling that hadn't subsided much as the morning had progressed.

The only possible bright spot that she could see was that while Rachel's father clearly didn't approve of his daughter's union to her, he did seem to believe it was genuine, at least on Rachel's part. Quinn couldn't muster up too much annoyance at the man's suspicions. For one thing, he was completely right; she was using his daughter for her own gain. Granted Rachel was fully aware, but she still wasn't with his daughter for the right reasons. For another thing, if Libby came home and suddenly announced that she had married someone Quinn had never met after a drunken weekend in Vegas, she would likely react much the same…or worse.

She shivered slightly at the mental image of her innocent baby girl marrying some stranger. Yeah…definitely way too soon to even contemplate something so horrible. Luckily she had years and years before she had to even think about entertaining Libby dating, let alone getting married.

Feeling slightly calmer, Quinn took a moment to take in her surroundings. Rachel's love of Broadway was easy to see in her choice of decorations. Playbills and framed show posters decorated the walls. Standing up she walked over to a small display shelf. A small individual trophy proclaiming New Directions the winner of the Nationals Show Choir singing competition, whatever that was, rested in a place of honor on the center of the small shelf.

Hearing a soft knock on the partially closed door, Quinn spun around guiltily, not wanting Rachel to think she was snooping through her stuff. Instead of the short brunette she was expecting she saw one of the woman's fathers instead. Quinn let out a breath of relief when she saw it was the quieter Hiram, and not the more openly antagonistic Leroy. She might understand where the man was coming from, but that didn't mean she wanted to be left alone in a room with his obvious disapproval.

"Everything okay in here?" Hiram questioned kindly. Quinn remembered Rachel saying that he was a pediatrician, and she could see how his gentle demeanor would put children at ease.

Quinn tucked her phone into her pocket and nodded her head. "Yeah. I'm sorry I ran out like that, I know it was rude of me."

Hiram walked over shook his head dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Rachel explained about Libby and your parents." He smiled understandingly. "This must be extremely hard on you."

Quinn let her shoulders sag and closed her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. "It really is. I feel like I'm going out of my mind. It's been three weeks and it feels like a piece of me has been torn out." Quinn wasn't sure why she was opening up to a perfect stranger like this, but something about Rachel's dad just seemed to invite her to spill all of her worries. Maybe it was a doctor thing, or a parent thing.

Brittany was sympathetic to her concerns, but Quinn didn't like to talk too much about missing Libby because she knew it upset her friend just as much. She didn't really have any other friends, and she certainly wasn't going to burden Rachel with something she was sure the singer wouldn't be interested in.

Hiram nodded in understanding. "Leroy and I decided to take a week-long vacation when Rachel was around one and half. We lasted two days, and most of that time was spent on the phone checking in to make sure she was okay."

Quinn gave him a watery half smile, understanding completely. "This is the first time I have ever been away from her for longer than a work shift." She ran her hands through her hair. "It would maybe be bearable, just…if they would at least let me talk to her."

Hiram frowned. "You haven't even spoken to her?"

Quinn shook her head. She could feel the tears starting to build and she fought them back viciously. The last thing she needed was to turn into a sobbing mess the first time she met Rachel's father. Way to make a good impression. "Every time I call she's 'napping'. I can only imagine what they are telling her, she's too young to understand all this. She probably thinks I've abandoned her."

At the thought of her daughter sitting alone and frightened in the cold confines of her childhood home, Quinn's battle against her tears was lost. Feeling the wetness spill down her cheeks she reached up to hastily wipe the moisture away. "I'm sorry. You don't need me unloading on you like this."

His parental instincts taking over Hiram wrapped Quinn in a one armed hug, rubbing his hand up and down her arm in a soothing gesture. "Don't worry about it. You're family. Family is there for each other."

Quinn laughed humorlessly. "Not in my experience."

"Well the Berry family is there for each other, and now that you are a part of that that means you too."

Hearing Hiram's sincerity, even though she was a total stranger to him, Quinn felt another flood of tears threaten. He was showing her more warmth and support than her own parents had in years, possibly ever. The thought of her daughter in that house, even for a month, was unbearable for Quinn.

Before Quinn could respond to the kind sentiment the remaining two Berrys joined them in Rachel's room. Rachel hesitated awkwardly in the doorway. "When Daddy didn't come back we got worried. Is everything okay? What was the call about?"

With an audience, especially Leroy, Quinn suddenly felt uncomfortable receiving comfort from Hiram. Feeling the blonde stiffen when the other two appeared, Hiram casually dropped his arm and moved across the room toward his husband and daughter. "I was just about to ask Quinn that."

Quinn wiped at her cheeks, hoping to remove any lingering evidence of her breakdown. Rachel spotted the motion and frowned. Moving to occupy the place her father had just vacated, Rachel wrapped an arm loosely around Quinn's back, resting her hand on the blonde's hip.

"Is it Libby? Is she sick?" Rachel questioned before Quinn had a chance to respond.

Quinn shook her head. "No, thank god." She sighed in frustration. "They just called to inform me that they've had something come up next weekend so they won't be able to return Libby as planned."

"They can't just do that!" Rachel cried indignantly. She looked at her father for confirmation. "They can't right?" Seeing her father shake his head in the negative, Rachel nodded her head crisply. "Don't worry Quinn, we'll call Ben and get this straightened out. They can't just refuse to return her like that. It's kidnapping!"

Quinn felt her heart warm at Rachel's ready defense. Even though it was probably just for show with her dads, it was nice to feel that someone besides Brittany finally had her back. "They aren't refusing to give her back; they just can't transport her back as we agreed. They said I could come and get her if I wanted." Quinn laughed bitterly. "If I wanted. As if that is even in doubt."

Rachel frowned. "Well I'm sure there's still something Ben can do. If they agreed to return her then they should be obligated to do so," Rachel insisted firmly.

Quinn shook her head. "I wouldn't even care, except that I have no way of getting her, and I can't take the time off of work, which is why they agreed that they would pick her up and bring her back home."

Rachel laughed and squeezed her arm around Quinn's waist. "Quinn don't be silly. If that's all that's worrying you, you can stop."

Quinn looked at Rachel blankly, not quite following the brunette's train of thought. "We can go pick her up next weekend. I'm sure that your work will forgive you for missing one weekend." Rachel smiled at her brightly and Quinn realized that she had completely forgotten that Rachel, as her wife, would be not only glad to, but expected to, help her in this situation.

Quinn shook her head and rubbed her hand across her forehead. "Right. I don't know what I was thinking." Quinn looked briefly at Rachel's fathers, who hadn't said anything yet, hoping that she hadn't just ruined everything with her lapse. Upon hearing that Libby may not be coming home as planned her mind had just gone blank. "I'm still getting used to all this," she responded vaguely.

Rachel wrapped her other arm around Quinn and linked her hands together, wrapping the blonde in a tight, albeit brief, hug. "Well get used to it. You're a Berry now, and all of our resources are at your disposal."

Quinn turned her head and smiled softly at the brunette before turning to grace Hiram with the same look. "So I have been told."

Leroy cleared his throat, speaking for the first time since entering the room. "Speaking of which, I'm going to have a talk with Ben tomorrow, I don't want him handling your case."Quinn felt her heart drop. One Berry it seemed, did not share the familial sentiment. Quinn's brow creased in confusion when she saw Leroy give her a grudging half smile. "I'm going to handle it myself." He gave a shrug of his shoulders. "After all, you're family now right?"

As she looked around at the people that were now, technically, her family she wondered for the first time how she was going to say goodbye to them at the end of the year. Rachel was, to some extent, playing a role, but even Quinn could see the brunette's genuine good nature and warmth. However, Hiram and Leroy were just taking her at face value, and based simply on her association with their daughter, were welcoming her into their family. Quinn simply nodded her head dumbly in response to Leroy's rhetorical question. This was going to be much harder than she had anticipated.


	8. Chapter 8 - This is Why I Ever Left Ohio

AN: Okay, first of all many apologies on how long this update took to post. I wish I could say I had a good reason for the delay, like plague, or a near fatal accident, but alas it was just a combination of my natural laziness and tendency to get distracted by other things (namely reading fanfic, and playing video games).

I am committed to finishing this, or any other fic I post, I mean I may be old and shriveled and half of you may have died of old age, but I will totally finish!

I know this fic is listed as Romance/Humor but this chapter is definitely a bit more on the drama side of things. For the most part the fic from here forward will have a much lighter tone.****

Special thanks to me Beta for helping me fix the kid speak - I don't know what I was thinking trying to write a fic with kids in it. **  
**

Where we left off: Rachel took Quinn to meet her dads, which other than a few death glares from Leroy, went fairly well. Quinn managed to assure everyone that she was not in fact a gold digger (on the plus side she was no longer being accused of prostitution). Quinn received an upsetting phone call from her parents informing her that they would not be returning Libby as promised, and that if Quinn wanted her she had to come get her. After a mild panic attack brought on by the fact that she had no way of getting her wayward offspring, Quinn was reminded that marrying in to money has its perks when Rachel assured her that of course she would go with Quinn to pick up Libby – after all they were all family now. Awww, group hug.

* * *

**Chapter 8: This is Why I Ever Left Ohio  
**

Santana reclined against Rachel's pillows and watched lazily as the agitated brunette continued to pace restlessly back and forth. She reached down to the small bowl of grapes resting on her stomach and casually popped one into her mouth. She had been through this enough times in the past that she now came prepared with snacks.

Santana had long since given up on interrupting the constant stream of words that was coming out of the small diva. She figured that when it was finally her turn to talk, Rachel would let her know somehow. So instead, she let her mind drift off to much more pleasant thoughts, thoughts of Brittany, and of the blonde finally agreeing to going out to dinner with her, and if they went out to dinner of course they had to have dessert. Santana pondered that for a moment and decided that dessert should definitely occur at her apartment. Something involving whipped cream, chocolate, ooh and sprinkles!

While Santana let her thoughts drift to decidedly more lascivious places, Rachel stood at the foot of the bed and glared at her non-responsive and stupidly grinning friend. Rachel had spent enough time around the Latina to recognize that look.

"Santana." No response. "Santana!" Still nothing. "Santana Lopez!" Accompanied by a not so gentle shaking of the bed. But still not a twitch. Rachel sighed in resignation because there was no way she was actually going to touch the other brunette. The few times she'd actually tried that, Santana had almost taken her head off. Clearly the hot blooded Latina did not respond well to being touched when she wasn't consciously aware that it was going to happen. She tended to come out swinging on whoever had disturbed her.

Rachel grumbled to herself as she stalked over to the bathroom. There was one method she could use, and while Santana would still be pissed at least Rachel would be able to keep a safe distance. Filling a small paper cup with water she walked determinedly over to her bed.

She dipped her fingertips in the small cup and softly flicked the accumulated moisture at the prone brunette. Much to Rachel's chagrin, a brief flinch was the only response. Dipping her finger into the cup again she repeated the procedure, sighing when she got the same virtual non-reaction. She looked at the cup thoughtfully, weighing the merits of splashing all the contents onto her friend at once. While the idea was tempting, and would certainly achieve her end goal, the fact that Santana was laying on her bed, and that the Latina was almost certain to murder her, prevented her from executing.

Just when she was about to give up on this plan altogether, Santana finally snapped to attention. Shaking her head like a wet dog, she ran her hand over her face, across the accumulated moisture and glared at her smaller friend.

"What the fuck Berry?" Santana demanded angrily.

Rachel set the cup crisply on the bedside table and crossed her arms, looking at her friend challengingly. "I couldn't get your attention."

"Well did you try something simpler, like oh I don't know…_talking_to me?" Santana questioned sarcastically.

"Of course I did," Rachel replied primly, "but you were clearly in a sex fog and it is notoriously hard to get your attention once you've entered into that state."

Santana looked at the singer incredulously. "A sex fog?"

Rachel nodded her head in the affirmative. "I could identify it by the creepy leer."

Santana crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Rachel. "I do not have a creepy leer." She couldn't refute the leer itself, but there was no way she was willing to concede it was creepy.

"You really do," Rachel insisted, "and furthermore I don't appreciate you having…inappropriate thoughts in my bed."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh please, it's not like they were about _you. _Besides, my thoughts are probably the only action this bed has seen in the last decade."

Rachel scowled at her friend. "It has not been a decade. I haven't even _had_the bed that long."

"Oh, well in that case…I stand corrected." Santana snickered. "What was it that you were so desperate to get my attention about that you had to get me all wet?"

Rachel's scowl disappeared to be replaced by her earlier sense of panic. "What am I going to do?" she questioned plaintively.

Santana hiked one eyebrow. "Uh, yeaaaah you need to be a whole lot more specific than that."

"What am I going to do once Libby gets here," Rachel huffed in annoyance, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Santana shrugged. "I don't see why _you_have to do anything. I mean the rug rat has a mother, why do you need to even be in the picture."

Rachel stomped her foot and glared at her friend. She loved Santana, she really did, but sometimes her friend could be incredible obtuse. "Santana," she stated slowly, as though she were talking to a child, and sometimes she really wondered if that might not be far off the mark, "there is no way that the arrival of a small child into my home is going to leave my life unaltered. They are small, needy individuals that require all sorts of extra attention and care. " Rachel's hand fluttered around her head as she gestured aimlessly.

"Just do what I do," Santana replied unconcerned. "Smile, nod, and tune out about 95 percent of everything that comes out of their mouth."

Rachel looked at her friend skeptically. "Since when do you spend time around kids?"

"Well not a child per se, but definitely a small needy person." Santana shifted her gaze to stare at Rachel significantly.

Rachel huffed loudly, crossed her arms across her chest and stamped her foot; all in all doing a passable impression of a pouting toddler. Santana merely raised her eyebrow; her point had been made.

"Santana you're not taking this seriously," Rachel fretted. "I never got a chance to have that baby proofer stop by. What if Libby takes a fall down the stairs because I didn't have baby gates installed."

"You don't have stairs," Santana pointed out blandly.

"Ok well what if she falls off the balcony?"

"Doesn't that door have a lock on it already? Just make sure it's locked."

"What if I forget! That's exactly what I'm talking about, what if my inexperience leads to a terrible, fatal accident! I can't have that on my conscience!"

"Okay you seriously need to chill out," Santana insisted calmly, un-swayed by her friend's theatrics and furrowed her brows thoughtfully. "Have you even opened that door in the last year?"

"That's not the point, what if I do, and then, since I'm not used to going out there, I forget to lock it behind me."

"Well just give the key to Quinn, that way you can be sure that the door will be locked, and then if the tot takes a header off the balcony you can blame her and your conscience is clear," Santana supplied with a smile.

"That's not funny Santana," Rachel scolded her friend. Uncrossing her arms, Rachel started to pace back and forth once again feeling the need to burn off some of the tension that was building. For some reason, she had managed to largely ignore the fact that a child was going to be joining her house. She was just starting to get used to Quinn, but at least she was able to care for herself. She knew from the few conversations she'd had with the blonde that Brittany had been more than just a roommate, and had in fact helped Quinn with babysitting. _What if she expects me to help? I know even less about kids than Santana, at least she had younger siblings. _

The reality of the situation had really started to hit home for her yesterday when Quinn had started to set up the room that Rachel had picked out for Libby. When she had seen Quinn folding and putting away Libby's clothes, it had really sunk in for her just how small, and therefore helpless and dependent this new addition to her household was. Rachel had felt the worry start to well up; she hadn't even been particularly good with children when she had been one herself.

"What if she hates me," Rachel blurted, finally revealing her biggest fear.

Santana looked at her friend, her expression softening slightly. She had been friends with Rachel since childhood, and while she had done her best to shield her friend from harassment and teasing, _it was amazing what a few ass kicking's could solidify for a six-year-olds reputation as a badass,_she hadn't been able to force the other kids to befriend the petite brunette. If it hadn't been for Santana, Rachel would have grown up with almost no peer interaction.

"C'mon," she scoffed disbelievingly, "you're like a pocket sized Mary Poppins, always singing and dancing around, what kid wouldn't love you. It will be like their very own live action sing along video, any kid would be thrilled."

Rachel gnawed on her bottom lip, still not entirely convinced, but wanting to believe what Santana was saying. "You really think so?"

"I know so," the Latina nodded firmly, hoping to put her friend's mind at ease. "So how did things go with your dads on Sunday, you never really gave me the details," Santana asked effectively changing the subject, not wanting the small singer to obsess about Libby's arrival. The distraction worked because Rachel rolled her eyes and finally plopped down onto the bed, taking a break from her incessant pacing, a sure sign that she was beginning to calm down.

"Well Daddy almost ruined everything. First he was all glares and questions; I think he nearly gave Quinn a heart attack." Santana nodded her head; that definitely sounded like Leroy. "Luckily Dad kept him from going totally vigilante on poor Quinn, but he was still doing everything in his power to prove that she was a gold digger out for my money."

"Well that is the most logical conclusion," Santana interjected; she and Leroy had always shared an affinity with one another.

"Why is that the first thing everyone thinks," Rachel exclaimed. "Is it so hard to believe that someone would meet me and wouldn't be able to resist my charms and want to marry me right away?"

"Honestly? Yes." Santana replied flatly.

"Santana!" Rachel cried with a gasp, turning to look at her friend with wide, slightly hurt eyes.

Santana rolled her eyes in response. "It's nothing particular to _you_ Rachel. If _anyone _told me they had just met someone and gotten married in the matter of a few weeks or months I would think one of two things. One, the chick got knocked up, or two, someone was looking to take advantage and get themselves a quick payday. And since for very obvious reason number one is off the table, it's the only logical conclusion."

Rachel crossed her arms with a pout. "No one has any sense of romance anymore."

"It has nothing to do with romance, getting married that quickly is just plain stupid."

"One of these days you're going to meet someone and you will finally see what I'm talking about," Rachel insisted.

"I wouldn't hold my breath on that one," Santana replied shortly. In all the years of dating she had never met someone that made her even contemplate the idea of settling down. Her longest relationship to date had been about three months. Three months and she had been bored to tears and desperately looking for an out. She really didn't think marriage was in the cards for her. "Did something else happen? I mean it sounds like Leroy was his typical doubting self, but it hardly sounds ruined."

"Oh, that wasn't the worst part," Rachel exclaimed, getting back into telling her story. "So he _finally_ is convinced that Quinn is not a gold digger, the post-nuptial agreement you had her sign went a long way in that regard, but then he decides that the only reason that we got married was to get custody for Libby."

"Well that _is_ one of the main reasons. So did he not believe that the relationship was real?" Santana knew that if they couldn't even convince Rachel's fathers, who would want to suspend disbelief and believe that their daughter had finally found someone that made her happy, they were dead in the water when it came to the far more suspicious and cynical tabloid press.

Rachel shook her head, looking thoughtful. "No, I think we convinced him that we were a couple, just not that we had gotten married for the sole purpose of gaining custody. So he offered to ensure that Quinn got custody, that he would personally take her case, if we wanted to get the marriage dissolved."

Santana hiked up an eyebrow at the news. She assumed since Rachel was sitting here worried about getting Libby in a few days the blonde waitress hadn't taken Leroy up on his offer. "Luckily Quinn declined, but can you imagine if she had said yes? All of this for nothing, not to mention how mortifying that would have been."

"Did she say why she declined? I mean from her side of things that would look like a win-win."

Rachel shook her head. "We haven't really talked about it. I figure it's either because she wants to honor her side of the bargain, or she doesn't trust me to not turn on her if she backed out, thus withdrawing my dad's support."

Santana shrugged, not really caring which it was as long as the blonde was still on board for their plan. "Well either way, at least we are still a go. Which reminds me, there is a fundraising slash networking event in a couple of weeks that I think you two should go to, your first introduction to society so to speak. It is fairly low key, but a lot of big behind the scenes types are going to be there."

Rachel grimaced at the news. She hated these events. While she still hadn't made her big break onto the Broadway stage, her family money and clear love for the theater ensured that she stayed on most people's guests lists. Even if they weren't eager to cast her, they would never say no to a generous check. Rachel knew it was a fine line to tread. If she stopped giving money, she would likely lose one of her ins, but if she gave too much, it would look like she was trying to buy her way onto the stage. While she would give almost anything to finally get a starring role, she wanted to actually earn it.

Santana saw Rachel's expression and pushed her playfully on the shoulder. "Don't make that face. You know networking is a necessary evil."

"I know," Rachel sighed, "it would just be a lot more bearable if it seemed like it was actually paying off. I sometimes think my patronage hurts me more than helps, and makes me look more like a dabbling dilettante rather than a serious singer."

In a rare show of comfort Santana patted Rachel consolingly on the shoulder. "You'll get there Berry."

Rachel nodded; they had had this conversation many times in the past. "I know. I just hate waiting," she replied with a wry grin. Standing up she ran her hands down her thighs before clapping them together and turning to face the still prone Latina. "Okay, enough moping." Walking over to her closet she called back over her shoulder, "Come help me pick out what to wear."

Santana reluctantly dragged her body off the bed and shuffled over to the closet, leaning against the door jam and crossed her arms. "I think you have time to pick out something for the party Rach, it's not for a couple of weeks."

Rachel shook her head and continued to flick through the clothes' hangers. "Not the party silly, what I'm going to where this weekend to meet Quinn's parents. I need to make a good impression."

Santana furrowed her brow. "You are worried about making a good impression on your fake wife's homophobic parents?"

"Of course!" Rachel replied fervently. Just because odds were heavily stacked against them liking her, that didn't mean she still wasn't going to put her best foot forward. Plus there was also someone else she was meeting for the first time, though she doubted that Libby was going to care, or notice, what she was wearing.

Santana sighed. "Of course you are."

* * *

"Are you excited?"

"Excited doesn't even begin to describe it. I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next two days with my sanity intact," Quinn answered her friend.

Despite the fact that she seemed to spend all her time at work lately, Quinn hadn't really had a chance to talk to her former roommate. She was hoping that all of the extra time she had been putting in lately would buy her a little bit of goodwill with her boss about taking the weekend off. Judging by his begrudging agreement to give her the time off, she wasn't so sure that it had.

"Well it will all be over soon," Brittany reassured her friend. The blonde reached into the dish bin and grabbed another plate, scrapping the leftover food into the trash. The diner they worked at was not big on hiring extra employees, so while some places would have bus boys, here, the waitresses were expected to fill in during the lulls.

"Not a moment too soon."

"It was nice of Rachel to offer to go with you." While Quinn hadn't had a lot of time to talk with her long time friend, she had managed to give her the highlights of the weekend meeting with her new in-laws.

Quinn nodded her head. She had been extremely relived, and grateful, when the feisty brunette had insisted on going with her. She was still not acclimated to the fact that other than Brittany, she now had people in her life that were there for her. Even if it was mostly for show on the brunette's part, it still felt nice.

"It was. It's even nicer that she insisted on paying for the airfare." A small smirk twisted the blonde's lips. "She practically shoved her credit card in my hand when I told her that I was only going to be able to afford bus fair." Quinn chuckled softly when she remembered the utterly horrified look on the brunette's face. She doubted that the singer had ever set foot on a bus to go across town, let alone across several state lines.

She had promised Rachel that she would pay her back as soon as possible for her and Libby's tickets. She was still mindful of the conversation with Rachel's fathers; she didn't want to take advantage of the other woman financially more than she already was. Though it had dinged her pride to have to rely on Rachel for the tickets, she wasn't stupid enough to turn the offer down. One, she had not been relishing the thought of traveling a day by bus with a toddler and two, she was sure the other woman would have refused to go, and she really didn't want to face her parent's alone.

"Are you nervous about going back?" Brittany questioned.

Quinn drew in a deep breath, considering the mix of emotions she was feeling about her return to her home town. She hadn't been back since her parents had essentially cut her off. And while she was not relishing the thought of seeing them again, her time in Lima hadn't been all bad. Sure she had been under the thumb of controlling parents, and as a result had been forced to suppress her true self.

Remembering the small town she had grown up in, and its less than enlightened views, she wasn't sure that even if her parents had been accepting, if the outcome would have been any different. At the end of the day however, she had played the part of the perfect Christian daughter and head cheerleader, and as a result her high school years had been a breeze. All of the girls wanted to be her, and all of the boys wanted to date her.

Finally Quinn nodded her head. "Maybe a little. I mean I am definitely not looking forward to dealing with my parents, but I do have some good memories, you know?" Brittany nodded her head in understanding.

"Speaking of parents, you never really said how it went with Rachel's dads on Sunday. What were they like?"

Quinn laughed softly. "They were sweet. Very different. Leroy, the lawyer, spent most of the morning glaring at me and trying to get me to admit that I was just after his daughter's money. Hiram, the doctor, is just genuinely sweet. If he had his doubts about me, he never really let it show." Quinn shook her head. "The one thing you could see, though they definitely expressed it in very different ways, was that they both simply adore Rachel. It was nice to see," Quinn finished a little wistfully.

"They seem nice," Brittany said happily; she could sense that something about the meeting had bothered the other blonde and she wanted to try to cheer her up.

"They are," Quinn replied.

Brittany narrowed her eyes in confusion and frowned and her friend's dejected expression. "Then why do you seem so sad?" Brittany questioned.

Quinn blew out a frustrated breath and shook her head. "I just hate lying to them. They seem like really good people and I feel awful about deceiving them like this." Finished with loading the dishes into the dishwasher, Quinn slid the stainless steel door down and pushed the start button. Walking over to the small bench along the wall, she took a seat while she waited for the machine to complete its cycle.

"My parents called when I was there," Quinn relayed; she had told Brittany that they had called but not when. "I went into one of the spare rooms to take the call. Rachel's dads got worried when I didn't come back and Hiram came to find me." Quinn shook her head again before turning to look her friend in the eye. "He was just so _sweet _and understanding. Even Leroy, who had been fairly standoffish, got upset and he insisted on handling the case personally."

Brittany widened her eyes slightly at the revelation. "I know right? I mean my own parents couldn't cut me out of their lives fast enough and are now trying to steal a child they have never even seen and these complete strangers are willing to go to bat for me because I'm _family_," Quinn sighed. "Only except I'm not," she replied sadly.

The fact that because of her, and her choices, Libby was going to be denied a true sense of family was one of the things that haunted Quinn the most. Her own parents wanted nothing to do with her, and truth be told, even if they were willing, Quinn wasn't sure she would want to subject her daughter to them. She had chosen to not pursue anything with Libby's father, so now her family only consisted of Quinn and Brittany. Seeing the loving relationship Rachel had with her fathers had just highlighted all that she was robbing Libby of with her choices.

Brittany sat next to her friend and draped a comforting arm across her shoulder and hugged her tightly against her side. Quinn let out a soft sigh and let her head rest on the taller blonde's shoulder. "You can't feel guilty about this Quinn, it wasn't your decision it was Rachel's. It's her family and this is how she wants to handle it."

Quinn exhaled loudly and shrugged. "I know that but it still feels wrong to deceive them like this. Plus I worry about how all this is going to affect Libby."

Brittany crinkled her brow in confusion. "I thought you said they seemed nice; do you not think they will accept her?"

Quinn shook her head in the negative. "Just the opposite actually, I'm afraid they are going to welcome her with open arms."

"And that's bad?"

Quinn nodded. "It is when they suddenly disappear at the end of the year. It's not like she's a baby, she'll probably be around four when this whole thing comes to an end. She will have had time to get attached. I only spent a few hours with them and at the end of that time they were already making me feel like a part of the family. They are going to waste no time absorbing Libby into their little clan."

Brittany rubbed her hand soothingly on Quinn's upper arm. "Just take it as it comes, Quinn. You are going to drive yourself batty with all the what ifs. It sounds like they are going to be nothing but wonderful to Libby, and she deserves that." Brittany smiled and tried to interject her voice with as much hope as she could. "Besides, who's to say that you and Rachel don't get to be great friends and stay in each other's lives? Then Libby will have gained another aunty out of the deal."

Quinn nodded reluctantly. "I suppose you're right. It's too late to do anything about it now anyway. I agreed to this, I just have to make sure it impacts Libby as little as possible."

"That's all you can do." Brittany squeezed her friend tightly. "So her dad agreed to take the case? That's great I mean you'll finally have an attorney that gives a damn about what happens to Libby."

Quinn shook her head in the affirmative against Brittany's shoulder. "He did." She gave a short chuckle. "He actually offered to handle it before my parents call, provided I dissolve the marriage to Rachel of course."

Brittany pulled back slightly and frowned lightly at her friend. "What did you say to that?"

Quinn pulled back slightly as well and quirked her brow at her friend. "I said no of course, I couldn't do that to Rachel, not after all she's done for me." Quinn had briefly considered the idea, but realized that it just didn't sit right with her to betray Rachel that way.

Brittany looked at her friend probingly for a moment before a small smile graced her lips. Quinn scowled and rolled her eyes at her friend's knowing expression. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You totally like her," Brittany chirped happily.

Quinn pulled back even further and crossed her arms across her chest defensively. "What? I do not. I mean sure, she seems nice enough but I barely know her." Granted after the first bumpy couple of days the relationship between the two women had mellowed, but she didn't _like_ the brunette, and certainly not in the way that her blonde companion was implying.

Brittany just continued to give her the same knowing look. "Well you will have plenty of time to get to know her in the next year," Brittany teased playfully.

"It's not like that Brittany," Quinn huffed. Sure the brunette was attractive, but clearly even under different circumstances she wouldn't have ended up just falling into bed with the other girl in such a short period time, right? Quinn frowned. Or married her. Shit. Quinn shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Even if I might, _might, _have otherwise possibly been interested there is no way anything is going to happen between us now."

Brittany looked at Quinn with a pout. "Why not? She seems nice."

"It is just way to complicated, it's one thing to live with a stranger as a roommate and pretend to be in a relationship. Can you imagine how awkward it would be if we started something and then it went south before the year was out?" Quinn shook her head. "Nope. Definitely not going to happen."

"You're no fun," Brittany replied grumpily.

Before Quinn could offer a rejoinder their boss popped his head around the corner and scowled at the two blondes.

"Fabray. Pierce. I don't pay you to sit on your asses, get back to work or this time you're taking will come out of your pay," he barked loudly, before disappearing again.

Quinn stood up wearily and offered her friend a hand up from the bench. "C'mon, duty calls."

* * *

As the landing gear hit the tarmac Quinn gripped the arms of her seat rest tightly. It wasn't flying that was putting her on edge; it was being back in her home state. After her parents had thrown her out she hadn't ever expected to come back. She startled slightly when she felt a warm hand cover hers on the armrest.

"Are you okay?" Rachel inquired, genuinely concerned.

Quinn gave her a weak smile and nodded her head. "Fine. It's just weird being back."

Rachel patted her hand reassuringly. "Well we won't be here long." Quinn nodded. Rachel had offered to book them a hotel, but Quinn had refused, wanting to get this trip over with as quickly as possible. They had departed New York early that morning, and would only be in Ohio long enough to drive the hour from Toledo to Lima, pick up Libby, and return to the airport. The schedule would be tight, but the alternative held no appeal for Quinn whatsoever.

As the plane taxied over to the gate Quinn tilted her head to the side and looked out the small window. The grey stormy skies mirrored her mood.

"It's so small." Quinn felt goose bumps erupt on her arms as Rachel's breath washed over the delicate flesh of her ear. Quinn turned her head slightly to find the brunette leaning almost on top of her as she peered out at the same small port that had drawn Quinn's attention.

Quinn turned to look out the window again. She supposed the born and bred New Yorker had a point. When compared to Rachel's home town, the city, while respectable by Ohio standards, was definitely lacking by comparison. Instead of replying Quinn simply nodded her head.

As if sensing the other woman's reluctance to talk Rachel filled the silence. "I reserved a car for us. The rental agent assured me that it met all current safety standards and was sufficient to transport a small child. I also was able to procure a child safety seat. I did some research and discovered that it is recommended that children remain in some type of safety or booster seat until they are 8 years old. Though, I reserved a standard safety seat and not a booster since the guidelines recommended that a child should remain rear facing as long as possible, or until they reach 35-40 pounds." Rachel bit her lip in worry. "Is Libby over 40 pounds? I wasn't sure. I should have checked first. I'm sure they have the other type too if we need it," Rachel rambled nervously.

Quinn reached over and covered the other woman's hand, cutting off the flow of words. "Breathe. The safety seat is fine. Libby runs a little small for her age so it was the right choice."

Rachel smiled sheepishly at the blonde and drew a calming breath. "I'm sorry, it's just that I'm a bit nervous."

"About meeting Libby?" Rachel really hadn't said much about the pending arrival, so Quinn wasn't entirely sure how she was feeling about the situation. She knew that as an only child, she didn't have any exposure to nieces and nephews. Quinn could well remember her own feelings of terror and anxiety when she had been pregnant, having had very little exposure herself to children while growing up.

Rachel nodded her. "Well that, and meeting your parents."

"Can't say I blame you on that one, I'm not exactly looking forward to it either. Trust me when I say I will make it as quick as humanly possible and not expose you to them for any longer than is absolutely necessary."

"I just want to make a good impression," Rachel replied.

Quinn laughed, but it was a brittle, humorless sound. "Don't take this the wrong way, but there is no way you can make a good impression on them. They will hate you on sight."

"But they don't even know me," Rachel gasped.

"They know enough."

Rachel adopted an offended expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Quinn chuckled upon seeing the brunette's indignant look. "Seriously, it has _nothing_ to do with you. You could be the Queen of England and they would still hate you." Seeing that the singer still didn't understand, Quinn let out a sigh. "You're a woman, and my wife." God that still felt really weird to say out loud. "I was not understating the facts when I told you they were homophobes Rachel. I know a large part of the county has moved forward in their thinking when it comes to gays, but believe me when I tell you this part of the county is _not_one of them."

Rachel huffed in annoyance and sat back in her seat, arms crossed across her chest. "Well that's just ridiculously small minded of them."

Quinn nodded in understanding. It was an attitude that she had been raised with, but she knew it must seem like a very foreign concept to someone that had been raised not only in one of the more gay friendly parts of the country, but by wealthy gay parents. Wealth brought with it its own level of protection from some of the more bigoted opinions of others.

"It is, and that's why all I want to do is get Libby and get the _hell_ out of here." Quinn shifted in her seat and looked impatiently out the window. The plane had finished docking to the gate but they still hadn't gotten the word to disembark. She sighed deeply and shifted again; her skin felt tight, and this infernal waiting was killing her. She just wanted to get on the road and go.

* * *

As Quinn sat in the rented sedan, hands clutching the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip, she wondered where all the pent up go, go, go energy from the plane had disappeared to, because at the moment she didn't think dynamite could get her out of this car. As she looked at her childhood home, so seemingly average and all American, all she could feel was an almost crushing sense of dread.

"It looks nice," Rachel broke the heavy silence that had descended when they arrived almost a minute ago.

Broken from her reverie Quinn turned to meet the brunette's gaze. "Looks can be deceiving," she replied shortly. The singer's interruption had served to shake her from her depressing thoughts and she finally reached for the door handle and exited the car. There was only one thing that could make her cross that threshold again, and that something was waiting for her.

Slamming the door closed, she took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down her front, removing the non-existent wrinkles from the fabric. Old habits die hard, and appearance was everything to the Fabray's. She started to walk briskly up the walk before doubts could waylay her again, not bothering to wait for Rachel, and truly barely aware of the other woman's presence. Now that she was this close to her goal she only had one thing on her mind.

She jabbed the doorbell sharply and let her arm fall limply back by her side. She looked down, startled, when she felt her hand clasped firmly in Rachel's. She shot the brunette a questioning look but only received a bright smile in return. Before she could say anything the door swung open and Quinn found herself looking into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

"Quinn," Judy said, somehow sounding surprised to see her standing there even though Quinn had made sure to tell her what time they would be arriving. She wanted to get in, get Libby, and get out. Judy raised her hand and started to toy with the small silver crucifix she always wore. Quinn's gaze zeroed in on the adornment and her grip tightened on Rachel's involuntarily. She had worn a similar necklace all through childhood; but she had discarded it on the same day her parents had discarded her.

"Mother," Quinn replied coldly, her eyes flat. "Is Libby ready?" She knew it was rude, she should have probably ask her mother how she was, but she honestly couldn't force the usual pleasantries past her lips.

"Judy who's there?" Quinn flinched as her father's disembodied voice rang out, and fought the urge to bite out a sarcastic reply. Surely he must know who was at the door.

"It's Quinn," her mother called back quickly, it wouldn't do to leave Russell waiting. Her mother turned back toward the two women standing on the stoop and stepped back slightly, motioning for them to enter the house. "Come in, Libby is down for her nap so it will be a little while before she wakes."

Quinn clenched her jaw in irritation; they had probably planned this just to make her day more difficult. Reluctantly Quinn stepped across the threshold, Rachel trailing silently behind. "We have a tight schedule, so if you could just tell me where Libby is sleeping I will go get her and let you get back to your day."

"Nonsense Quinn, the girl needs her sleep," Russell Fabray stated patronizingly as he finally joined the small group, an ever present glass of scotch clasped in his hand even though it was not even noon yet. At the sight of her father Quinn felt every muscle in her body tense. She felt a grim sense of satisfaction as she saw Russell's lips twist into a look of utter distaste when he noticed the couples clasped hands. "Any good parent knows the importance of keeping a predictable schedule for growing children."

Quinn welcomed the instant surge of anger that flooded through her system, it helped fortify the part of her that still wanted to be the dutiful daughter and gain her parents approval. "You didn't seem all that concerned with her routine when you ripped her away from her life a month ago," Quinn spit out acidly. She had wanted to try and keep this civil, if only to expedite the process, but she knew that it was a lost cause.

Russell looked at his daughter coldly. "Some things are more important than routine. Elizabeth is family, it is my duty to remove her from an unhealthy situation." He shook his head, his expression regretful. "Just because you chose to abandon all the values of your upbringing doesn't mean that innocent child should be condemned to a life of sin. God only knows what kind of depravity you expose her to." He let them know exactly what "depravity" he was referring to when he motioned to the two of them.

Quinn tensed and her back went ramrod straight. She knew better than to fight with her father, to try to get him to see reason, but something was preventing her from just letting it go this time. "At least with me she will be exposed to a happy, healthy, _loving_ relationship," Quinn retorted hotly.

Russell took a healthy swallow from his glass and laughed sarcastically. "Healthy? The last thing I would call your lifestyle is healthy. How many strange women have you paraded through her life already? What about that blonde you were living with?" Russell shifted his focus to Rachel and smirked.

"You really need to hire a better investigator," Quinn taunted. "Brittany is, and has always been a friend and roommate, nothing more."

Russell glared at his daughter, his face flushing hotly, a combination of anger and alcohol; he wasn't used to being challenged, and certainly not in his own home. "Oh I think he does well enough," Russell replied with narrowed eyes. "He managed to uncover the fact that you had a quickie "marriage" in Las Vegas. It's so fitting that you would choose that den of iniquity to enter into this sham of a marriage."

At the word sham Quinn felt a spurt of panic well in chest. Did he know the truth? How could he? Taking a deep breath to calm her suddenly jack hammering heart, Quinn looked defiantly into her father's eyes. "If anyone in this room has a sham for a marriage I hardly think it's me."

The red flush on Russell's face and neck suddenly darkened to almost crimson and a vein started to throb noticeably on his forehead. "Get out of my house," he snarled, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the glass.

Rachel, who had been standing quietly during the verbal war between father and daughter looked nervously at Judy to see if the woman was going to intervene before it came to physical blows. Judy was watching the two blondes with a sad look of resignation as she continued to toy nervously with her necklace. Realizing that the older blonde woman would be no assistance, Rachel swung her gaze around the room and froze when it landed on a small figure huddled against the banister near the foot of the stairs.

The other occupants of the room had been too wrapped up in their heated exchange to take notice of the small girl's arrival. Rachel had expected Quinn's child to be a smaller version of the blonde, but instead the child looked more like she was Rachel's daughter than Quinn's. Petite, on the small side even for her age, dark brown hair that fell in messy curls down her back, and wide, worried chocolate eyes.

Rachel stepped forward and grasped Quinn's shoulder firmly, determined to get the blonde's attention. When Quinn swung her heated gaze to meet the brunette's eyes, Rachel extended her arm and pointed to where the other woman's daughter was standing. Quinn immediately looked, and Rachel could both hear and feel when the blonde's breath hitched in her chest.

Rachel had expected the waitress to fly across the short distance to scoop up her daughter but instead she was held oddly immobile. Finally having eye contact with her mother it was Libby that broke the stalemate.

"Momma?" the small girl asked, her voice a mixture of disbelief and hope. Quinn nodded, finding it almost impossible to speak and bent down and opened her arms wide. Libby wasted no more time and scrambled down the last few stairs, eager to get to her mother she ran across the foyer in her excitement.

"Elizabeth, what have I told you about running in the house?" Russell barked harshly. Libby stopped dead in her tracks, clearly terrified.

Quinn felt a rage unlike any she had ever known bloom in her chest and the only thing that kept her from assaulting her father was the presence of her daughter. She refused to continue the verbal back and forth that she and Russell had been engaged in now that her daughter was present. Instead she glared murderously at her father before rising back to her feet and covering the short distance to her trembling child. Reaching down she scooped the small girl under the arms and wraps her in a bone crushing hug. Libby wasted no time in wrapping her arms and legs tightly around the blonde, clearly not willing to let her go anytime soon. Burying her head in her daughter's neck, she turns around and presents her back to her parents', not wanting them to see any part of her emotional reunion with her daughter.

Quinn placed a series of soft kisses on any part of the small girl she could reach. Finally finding her voice she managed to husk out an emotional hello. "Hey baby girl. I missed you so much." Libby tightened her grip around Quinn's neck almost cutting off the blonde's air supply; Quinn relished the feeling.

"You came back." Libby said in a small, muffled voice as she buried her face in her mother's neck. Quinn almost couldn't understand her daughter but when the words fully sank in a frown creased her brow. As soon as the court ordered visitation had been approved she had sat down with Libby and tried to explain that she had to go away for a little while. Clearly the small girl had still been confused and as time passed she became convinced that her mother was never returning.

"Of course I did baby," Quinn murmured, her voice breaking slightly. "I would never leave you."

"But I live here now, they said so," Libby admonished quietly, her arms closing impossibly tighter around Quinn's neck as she spoke.

The rage blossomed quickly in Quinn; filling her chest like a fireball, the only thing that kept it from erupting out was the small girl clinging desperately to her. She would not explode and further frighten her child. Instead she kissed the side of Libby's head and said reassuringly, "No baby, you don't. You were just visiting for a little while. In fact we are going to just get your things and then we can be on our way, okay?"

Libby finally pulled back to look at her mother, her brown eyes big and hopeful. "We can go now?" She asked excitedly, with a little bounce as she rested her hands on Quinn's shoulders.

Quinn smiled warmly. "Of course we can. But don't you want to get all of your things first? You don't want to leave without Mr. Tubs do you?" Quinn teased, knowing that her daughter wouldn't want to leave her best friend behind. Instead of the excited chatter Quinn expected to hear, Libby's face crumpled and her lower lip started to quiver, her eyes welling with tears. Quinn ran one hand soothingly up and down the small girl's back. "What's the matter? Did something happen to Mr. Tubs?"

Mr. Tubs was Libby's most prized possession. An oversized stuffed cat that Brittany had given her when she was six months old and Libby never let it leave her sight. Instead of answering Libby simply nodded and burrowed her face back into her mother's neck. Quinn placed a kiss on her daughter's head and finally turned around to face her parents.

"What happened to Mr. Tubs?" she demanded, glaring first at her father and then pinning her mother with the same look.

Russell took another drink, the ice cubes clinking loudly in his glass. "Are you referring to that disgusting, raggedy stuffed animal she took everywhere?" At Quinn's nod he shrugged carelessly. "I had your mother dispose of it, she is too old for such childish nonsense."

"You had no right!" Quinn ground out harshly, not wanting to raise her voice and upset Libby. Her mind flashed quickly to her own childhood toys and pets. Anytime she became too attached to something, it was taken away. Sometimes with the explanation that she was "too old", others because she had somehow displeased her father and it was her punishment. She had quickly learned not to get attached to anything at all; and she hadn't, not until Libby. And here they were, once again trying to take away the thing that Quinn loved.

Rachel, who had stood back with a small smile as she watched the heartfelt reunion between mother and daughter, had reached now reached her limit. She had held her tongue thus far out of respect for Quinn. It was her family, and while she was technically Quinn's wife, it wasn't really her place to confront the blonde's parents. But seeing Libby's obvious discomfort with her grandparents, and now learning that her cherished toy had been destroyed, had pushed the feisty brunette over the edge. Stepping forward she rested her hand on the small of Quinn's back, partly to get the other woman's attention, and partly because she knew it would irritate Russell.

"Sweetheart, why don't you take Libby out to the car and get her settled. I'll get her things." A slightly raised eyebrow and a small twist of her lips were the only blonde's only reactions to the endearment.

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked perfunctorily. In truth she was more than eager to escape this house, and she was caring less and less if she actually collected the clothes and toys her daughter had brought with her. Money be damned, she would buy all new things if it meant she could get out of here sooner.

"Positive." Rachel nodded firmly. She briefly considered giving the blonde a quick kiss, but decided against it, settling instead for keeping her arm wrapped around Quinn's back. Quinn looked at her searchingly for a moment before nodding her head slightly and turning for the door without another word to her parents. Rachel watched her go, and when the door finally closed she spun back around to face Russell and Judy, fire in her eyes.

"What kinds of monsters destroy a young child's beloved toy?" Rachel demanded hotly, hands firmly planted on her hips, remembering her own childhood toy Mr. Mistoffelees.

Russell glared at her, the contempt and disgust easy to read. "You have no right to question me," he sneered dismissively.

"I have every right. You can't just treat my family like that and expect to have your actions go unquestioned." While again, technically not true, Rachel wasn't going to let a little thing like the fact that their marriage was mostly for show stop her from giving this close minded bigot a piece of her mind.

"She's my daughter, I can talk to her anyway I want to."

Rachel felt a hot flush start to make its way up her neck towards her face. She had known, in an abstract way that families like this existed, but she had never really been able to wrap her head around the reality of it. She had always had her fathers' unquestioning love and support. She couldn't even contemplate what her life would have been like if she hadn't had them always in her corner. Her heart gave a painful pang when she realized what it must have been like for Quinn to grow up in such an environment.

"She may be your daughter, though seeing how you have treated her I hardly think you are much of a father, but she is my _wife_and I will not allow you to talk to her like that."

"Wife," Russell said mockingly. "You queers can pretend and play house all you want, it will never make your marriage real. You people are sick."

"Luckily the Supreme Court doesn't share your petty, small minded, bigoted view," Rachel rejoined. Part of her wanted to descend to this man's level and start throwing names, but her upbringing wouldn't allow for it.

"Court rulings can be overturned," Russell snapped. A smug smile stretched across his lips. "I mean if the law was so much in your favor why was I able to get a judge to grant my petition." Russell paused to take another drink. "Morality and sanity will prevail in the end, and that ridiculous law will be changed to reflect the values of all decent people once again."

"Just because one small town judge shares your narrow opinion doesn't mean you are right," Rachel huffed. "Quinn has a real attorney now, so I wouldn't expect any future rulings to go in your favor."

Rachel glanced quickly at her watch and realized that she and Quinn had spent more time here than they had planned, and if she didn't hurry they would miss their flight and would have to stay the night. And if Russell and Judy Fabray were any representation of the citizens of this state Rachel didn't want to risk missing their plane and having to spend any more time here than necessary.

"Well as illuminating as this discussion has been, we really need to be on the road, so if you could just give me Libby's belongings we will be on our way."

Russell took another drink, glaring coldly at the singer. "There's nothing to get. All the things that she came with were disgusting. We threw them all out."

Rachel crossed her arms tightly across her chest and drummed her fingers restlessly on her forearms. "Well surely Libby has been wearing _something_for the past month.

Russell smirked. "Why yes she has, but things my _wife_and I bought, therefore they are ours and Quinn has no right to them. Besides why send them back with you when it will only be a matter of time before Libby is back here."

Rachel suppressed the urge to scream at this insufferably smug man. She really had no idea how Quinn, and poor Libby, had managed to stay sane in this house. It was no wonder the blonde had been willing to do just about anything to ensure her daughter wouldn't end up here. Instead of addressing the blonde man standing in front of her, Rachel dug into her pocket and withdrew her cell phone and hit the speed dial for her father.

"Daddy," Rachel greeted happily once her father answered, never having felt so thankful for her parents before.

"_Rachel_," Leroy responded, a questioning tone lacing his voice. "_I thought you and Quinn were in Ohio today getting Libby."_

"Funny you should say that Daddy," Rachel replied, looking straight at Russell with a wide smile in place. "It seems that Quinn's father destroyed all of Libby's belongings and is now refusing to give us the replacement clothing. I'm sure there must be some law against destroying someone's personal property and then refusing to make reparations."

Rachel continued to stare down Russell, a smug smile of her own in place. Russell glared back, his brow lowered.

"_Are Quinn's parents everything she said they would be?" _Leroy asked with a chuckle, easily recognizing the combative tone in his daughter's voice. She was in full on crusader mode and it was never a fun experience to be on the opposite side of her when she got in that mode.

"Oh I see," Rachel said with a nod, completely ignoring her father's comment. "Well I was hoping to avoid pressing charges, I mean it is sure to be an embarrassing and humiliating experience for Mr. Fabray when the notice runs in the local paper, I hear word travels very fast in these small towns, but I don't think he's leaving me with much choice." Rachel looked at Russell with a resigned smile and shrugged her shoulders. "Unfortunately I don't see that I have much choice, so if you could file the charges as quickly as possible that would be fantastic Daddy."

As soon as she finished her sentence Russell crossed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist in a tight clasp, his eyes flashing dangerously. Rachel wrenched her wrist away, heart beating wildly in her chest. "What would assault charges add to the sentence Daddy?" Rachel asked, managing to keep he voice even. No one had ever grabbed her in anger, and even though she knew she was likely in no real physical danger her adrenaline was pumping regardless.

"_Did he touch you?" _Leroy barked, all trace of amusement leaving his voice.

"Judy," Russell ground out harshly, "Take her to get Libby's things, and then get her out of my house." Not waiting for a response Russell spun on his heel and stalked off down the hallway.

"No Daddy," Rachel fibbed, not wanting to alarm her father. "It was just a simple misunderstanding. Everything is fine. Give Dad my love, we should be home soon." Rachel made a kissing sound into the phone before cutting the connection. She knew she was going to get a lecture for this, but she would sooth her Daddy's ruffled feathers later, right now she had some clothes to retrieve.

Rachel cut her gaze to Quinn's mother. She could definitely see the resemblance, at least physically. She tried her hardest not to judge the older blonde, but she just couldn't understand anyone standing by and letting anyone treat her child or grandchild that way.

"We really do have a flight to catch," Rachel said, not unkindly, when it appeared that the other woman was not going to move unless prompted. Judy startled slightly, dropping the cross she was twirling unconsciously in her fingers, and nodded her head.

"Oh right, of course. If you'll just follow me it's right upstairs." Judy hastily moved toward the staircase and started to ascend.

Rachel moved to follow, running her hand along the impeccably polished banister. From what she could see of the interior the house was just as nice inside as out, everything perfectly shined and polished, not a thing out of place.

"I'm Rachel by the way," the singer said, needing to fill the awkward silence, and realizing that there had been no time for proper introductions.

Judy faltered slightly on the stairs, before continuing up. "Oh I know, the report…" she trailed off awkwardly; perhaps realizing that you had had someone investigated wasn't the best thing to start a conversation off with.

Luckily the room they were heading for was right at the top of the stairs, so Rachel didn't have to find anything up to fill the silence. The door was opened slightly, just wide enough for a small body to slip through. Judy pushed it open and gestured for Rachel to enter.

"The clothes are all in the dresser, the suitcase is under the bed, take anything you want." Rachel looked at Judy in question but the blonde simply dropped her gaze and slipped out of the room. Rachel shrugged and decided not to try to decipher the odd behaviors of this family.

Her gaze swung around the room and she felt a pang of sadness. The room, though decently sized, was practically bare, and if not for the paper and crayons on the small desk, Rachel would have had no idea that this was a child's bedroom. The walls were painted a neutral tan color, the bed linens a sedate blue, no toys or stuffed animals littered the floor, and the only book she saw was a copy of the children's Bible. It was a sharp contrast to her own room growing up, which had been a riot of color and toys, the walls decorated with whatever musical or movie had captured her attention at the moment.

Rachel sighed out and walked over to the bed, reaching under it and locating the suitcase. She just wanted to pack Libby's things and get out of this depressing house. Unzipping the small case she finally let a small smile grace her lips. The case was clearly a child's luggage set, colorful and cheerful, and she figured it must have been the one thing the Fabray's hadn't destroyed.

She scooped up the pile of childish drawings on the desk, figuring Quinn might want them, deliberately leaving the Bible behind. She made short work of emptying the small dresser, grimacing at the clothing the couple had selected. Clearly a shopping trip was going to be in order when they returned to New York. She was half tempted to leave the clothing, but by this point it was more the principle that she take the clothes than anything else. She was just about to zip the case closed when Judy reappeared in the doorway, a battered stuffed toy clutched in her hands.

Rachel knew instantly what it was. "Mr. Tubs I presume." Judy nodded jerkily and walked over to thrust it at Rachel. Rachel accepted the stuffed animal and ran her fingers gently over the well-loved fur. She looked up and met Judy's gaze. "Why did you keep it?" Rachel asked.

"I never stood up for Quinn," she stated sadly, as if that explained it. Rachel nodded slightly, perhaps it did. Judy looked nervously over her shoulder. "You should go."

Rachel wanted to explain to this woman, who obviously recognized that her husband's behavior was wrong, that she didn't have to stay here, and live like this, but she also recognized that it wasn't her place to lecture Quinn's mother, nor did she had the time. Instead she silently zipped the case closed and made her way toward the door. Judy followed behind her, and the two women descended the staircase in silence.

Unable to completely help herself Rachel paused at the threshold, turning back slightly to address Quinn's mother. "It doesn't have to be this way."

Judy shook her head. "I know you don't understand, but I love my husband." The words came out a little forced, and Rachel wasn't sure if the other woman was trying to convince Rachel or herself.

Rachel merely nodded her head and twisted the doorknob, letting herself out. The crushing sense of suffocation she hadn't even been aware of until it was gone, was lifted instantly the moment she was outside. Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath, she hurried quickly down the walkway towards the car parked at the curb. She glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see that only a half hour had passed since their arrival; it felt impossibly longer.

Approaching the car she was surprised to find Quinn still in the backseat; she had half expected the blonde to be behind the wheel, engine running, preparing to burn out and make a quick getaway the minute Rachel was seated. Instead she was struggling to get Libby to stay seated in her child seat.

"Libby please, you have to stay in your seat. I promise I'm not going anywhere, but you have to stay here so we can get to the airport." Rachel could hear the frustration in the blonde's voice, as well as the barely suppressed tears. Libby just continued to sob pitifully, clutching at her mother whenever she tried to put some distance between them.

Rachel set the suitcase by the rear tire and leaned into the backseat, resting her hand on Quinn's back to steady herself. She felt the blonde jump slightly at the contact, but was otherwise too preoccupied with her distraught daughter to react.

"Hey Libby," Rachel greeted the small girl quietly. At the sound of a stranger's voice the small child momentarily stopped crying and bit her bottom lip, looking at the newcomer distrustfully. "My name's Rachel and I have someone here that I think has been missing you." When the child continued to just stare at her Rachel brought the hand holding Mr. Tubs out from behind her back.

At the sight of her stuffed cat Libby's face instantly brightened and she reached out instantly with both hands. Rachel chuckled softly and instantly handed the cat over. Libby clutched it tightly to her chest, and once again looked at Rachel silently, no longer sure what to make of this stranger.

Quinn turned slightly to meet the brunette's eyes. "How?"

Rachel looked down and met Quinn's questioning hazel gaze. "Your mom." Rachel saw the flash of confusion, followed by anger, race across the blonde's eyes. She glanced quickly at Libby, who was no longer staring at Rachel, or clutching at her mother, but rather whispering quietly to Mr. Tubs. "Maybe we should take advantage of their reunion to make a quick getaway."

A quick smile flashed across Quinn's mouth before she blew out a tired sigh. "I think that is a fabulous idea." Quinn quickly strapped Libby into the safety harness and then extricated herself from the back seat, happily not drawing the still occupied Libby's attention. She picked up the suitcase and quickly tossed it into the trunk and hurriedly made her way into the driver's side of the vehicle.

Rachel watched as Quinn looked adoringly into the rearview mirror at her daughter before starting the engine. She smiled as she was sure the blonde had left a small patch of rubber on the ground in front of her childhood home as she quickly pulled away.


	9. Chapter 9 - Three's Company

**AN: Just when you thought you could finally write this fic off...an update.**

Okay I know I say this like EVERY time, but I really do apologize for the long delay between updates. Why I thought it would be a good idea to write a kid fic when I know virtually nothing about them, I have no idea. So my dread at facing this chapter allowed me to keep putting it off. Luckily my beta rocks and totally saved my ass with all sorts of guidance/fixing of my portrayal of Libby.

And just so you know your continued reviews and prods really do help, if you guys hadn't kept after me I wouldn't have felt like a total heel and thus compelled to finish this chapter instead of playing my newest video game. Harassment/encouragement really does work!

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**Chapter 9 – Three's Company  
**

Rachel opened the door to her apartment and closed it silently behind her. Watching her noise level was definitely a new experience for the brunette, but her recent interactions with Quinn had made her aware that others may not appreciate her normal morning regime.

She had awoken that morning, eager to get back in to her regular routine, since going to retrieve Libby had derailed her normally ordered existence. As she laced up her shoes and grabbed her IPod with the accompanying headphones, she had realized that Libby's bedroom was adjacent to her workout space. Her elliptical, while top of the line and relatively quiet, might still make enough noise to wake the small child.

Quinn had still been trying to settle the girl when Rachel had gone to bed, so the last thing she wanted to do was wake Libby with her morning exercise; she was not eager to experience Quinn's ire again so quickly since the two had been getting along relatively well since their last altercation. Rachel had made the decision to eschew her normal elliptical workout for a run in the park instead. While she usually didn't exercise outdoors; summer was too hot and humid, winter too cold, fall was the one season that she actually enjoyed.

As Rachel made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water she made a note that changing up her regular routine might need to be a more frequent occurrence now that she had others to think about in her living space. Though she was religious about working out every day her body was pleasantly sore in places; indicating that her normal workout might have sent her body into a bit of a rut and her elliptical was merely not doing its job anymore.

When she entered the kitchen she was surprised to see that Quinn was already up and moving about. She figured the combination of the late night and the early hour would have kept the blonde in bed much later.

"I hope I didn't wake you up when I left," Rachel said, reaching into the refrigerator for the water pitcher. "I tried to make sure I didn't make too much noise." Pouring a glass, Rachel took a healthy swallow of the liquid; her workout had definitely been more taxing than normal.

Quinn shook her head and sent a small, exhausted smile the brunette's way. She reached for the coffee pot, which she had been waiting for to finish brewing, and poured herself a cup. "No you were fine. I just couldn't sleep all that well. Don't get me wrong, I am beyond thrilled that she is back, but she didn't want to be left alone, and I had forgotten just how much of a bed hog she could be.

Rachel nodded her understanding and sent the Quinn a sympathetic look. "I heard you still trying to get her to settle down when I headed off to bed, I figured you may have been in for a late night and a much later morning."

Quinn ran a hand wearily through her tousled hair. "You could say that, she was _not_ happy about not being able to go home. I tried to explain to her that we lived here now, but I think it was just too much for her to process."

"It's a lot for anyone to take in, let alone someone her age. I think she handled it all with great alacrity and effulgence."

Quinn looked at the brunette with a quirked eyebrow. "Did you just quote Bring It On?"

Rachel took another drink and nodded her head, a smile twisting her lips. "I did. You're familiar with it?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and scoffed. "If by 'familiar with it' you mean have I watched it enough times to have it memorized then yes, I am indeed familiar with it." Seeing Rachel's questioning look Quinn clarified, "I was a cheerleader, it was a requirement that you be able to quote from just about any movie having to do with cheerleading."

Rachel's eyes flashed playfully as she gave the blonde an appraising look. "A cheerleader? I didn't really peg you as the type."

"What makes you say that?"

Rachel shrugged, not really able to articulate what it was about the blonde that didn't seem to fit the cheerleading mold. "I don't know, you just don't seem to have the…attitude I associate with the girls who were involved with cheering at my school."

Quinn laughed, and shook her head. "Oh trust me if you had known me in high school you would have had no doubts whatsoever. All the popular kids envied me, and everyone else feared me."

"Feared?" Rachel questioned curiously.

A flash of what Rachel interpreted as regret chased over the blonde's features. "You've had the displeasure of meeting my parents. Let's just say that they are not unique in my hometown. Anything that was viewed as different or abnormal was not tolerated. If anyone showed any kind of weakness or deviation from the norm it was expected that they would be punished."

"Punished how?" Rachel prodded when Quinn trailed off.

A wry grin, completely lacking in amusement twisted Quinn's lips. "Oh you know the usual, daily slushies, trips to the dumpster, general public ridicule and humiliation."

Rachel frowned, not being entirely able to reconcile the behavior Quinn was relating with the woman she had come to know over the last several weeks. While they had gotten off to a rather bumpy start in Vegas, Quinn had never seemed overly cruel. "The dumpster, ridicule, and humiliation I can work out, but what exactly is a slushie? That doesn't really seem that bad."

"Oh trust me, if you have ever had a 32 ounce Big Gulp filled with frozen slush, corn syrup and red dye number 40 thrown in your face first thing in the morning you would have a much different opinion."

Rachel's eyebrows hiked up and she leaned back against the counter. "Yes…that does sound rather…unpleasant."

"It was," Quinn replied with a frown. "I'm glad that part of my life is behind me, looking back I really don't like the person that I was in high school."

Rachel nodded sympathetically, having met Quinn's parents, regardless of the blonde's own social status; it couldn't have been easy to walk that tight rope. "Did you know?" Seeing the blonde's questioning look Rachel clarified, "That you were gay."

Quinn drew in a deep breath and pondered the question. "I mean looking back? Yes, there were definitely signs that if I had been more aware of myself would have clued me in, but at the time it wasn't something I was willing, or able to admit."

"What types of signs?" Rachel was curious. Raised the way she was, in an extremely open and understanding household, she had never had to hide her feelings or who she was attracted to. She had always known that no matter what, her parents would accept her. When she realized that she was attracted to girls, and had told her fathers they had barely batted an eyelash.

Quinn pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Let's just say I didn't watch Bring It On as much as I did because it was my duty as head cheerleader."

Rachel laid a hand on her chest and adopted a scandalized expression. "Why Quinn are you implying that you were 'ogling their goodies'?"

Quinn barked out a short burst of laughter, charmed by Rachel's teasing. "I was indeed."

Rachel leaned forward conspiratorially. "Torrance or Missy?"

Quinn considered the question for a fraction of a second. "Missy, no question."

Rachel nodded. "Me too, although I liked her character on Buffy the Vampire Slayer better."

Quinn tilted her head to the side, before shrugging slightly. "I was always more of a Buffy fan, I mean she was a cheerleader so it was like practically required," the blonde joked. Quinn looked at Rachel questioningly for several moments. "So are sarcastic brunettes your type?" Rachel crinkled her brow in confusion, not really understanding the line of questioning. Seeing her apparent confusion Quinn continued. "Santana?"

"Santana?" Rachel repeated, still feeling like she was missing the plot. After a few more moments of contemplation enlightenment dawned, confusion making way for disbelief. "Me and Santana?" Rachel questioned, her voice rising along with her eyebrows. "Oh god no…just…no."

"Well I know that's what you told your dads when they asked but I wasn't sure…" Quinn trailed off a note of something Rachel couldn't quite identify threading her tone.

Rachel shook her head. "Well I really was telling them the truth. I really do view her as a sister." Rachel canted her head to one side. "What about you and Brittany?"

Quinn choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken. "Okay yeah, I see your point. Definitely no."

"Besides it would never work anyway," Rachel replied confidently.

Quinn looked at her curiously. "And why is that?"

"It's like an unwritten rule or something," Rachel insisted. Seeing that Quinn needed a little bit more than that, Rachel continued. "Think about it, Xena and Gabrielle, Torres and Seven, Buffy and Faith, Olivia and Alex, Lucy and Amy, Brooke and Sam, Spencer and Ashley, I'm sure the list goes on."

Quinn looked at Rachel like she had lost her mind. "Okay first of all you do realize that none of those are real people right?" Rachel huffed but did eventually nod her head. "Second of all, with the exception of the last one, none of them were couples either. Thirdly, what exactly is that supposed to illustrate?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Blonde and brunette, each and every one. You never see blonde with blonde or brunette with brunette."

Quinn laughed despite herself. "So that's all it takes to make a successful pairing? Mismatched hair color?"

Rachel pouted. "Well when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous."

Quinn chuckled and waived her hand. "No, no. This all seems very scientific and well thought out, I will be sure to keep it in mind." Quinn pondered quietly for a moment, before smiling playfully at the brunette. "So I guess this means we're soul mates then? I mean a blonde and a brunette, it's like fate."

Rachel felt her skin flush slightly at the blonde's teasing as her mind helpfully supplied some less than appropriate images. She could readily admit, at least to herself, that she found Quinn attractive, and under less complicated circumstances she may have even pursued something with the other woman.

Not wanting to take the conversation down a serious path she deflected the question with some teasing of her own. "Or maybe you and Santana?"

Rachel smiled triumphantly when she saw she had rendered the other woman speechless. Finally shaking off her shock, Quinn could only shake her head. "No, I'm pretty sure we would kill each other before we ever even got out of the gate." Quinn paused for a moment, still contemplating. "Though it might be fun while it lasted."

Rachel frowned deeply, not she had made the comment as a joke, and she found she didn't like the fact that the waitress has apparently given it even an ounce of serious thought. Before she could think of a response to the blonde's flippant reply they were joined by someone else.

"You leave," a small voice accused grumpily.

Rachel turned her attention to the doorway and noted a decidedly unhappy toddler, stuffed cat clutched firmly around the neck, looking at her mother. She looked like she wanted to go to Quinn, but wasn't sure how to accomplish that without going past Rachel, a decidedly unknown quantity.

Quinn placed her now empty coffee mug in the sink and walked over to greet her daughter good morning. As soon as Quinn was within reach Libby wrapped her arms around the blonde's legs and buried her face against them.

Quinn smoothed her hand over the top of Libby's wild curls, trying in vain to tame the sleep tangled mass. Rachel took in the scene silently, not sure what to do in this situation. It was clear that her presence distressed the small child, and after all that she had been through in the past month the last thing the singer wanted to do was add more stress.

"Can you say good morning to Rachel?" Quinn queried her daughter, continuing to stroke her hand comfortingly over her daughter's head. The only response she received was an emphatic shaking of a small head, face still firmly hidden.

Rachel caught Quinn's attention and pointed towards the doorway. "I should go, I don't want to upset her, and I need a shower anyway."

"How about you go take your shower, while I make some pancakes?" At the word pancakes Rachel saw the small girl still momentarily, her attention clearly caught. "Then when you are done you can join Libby and me for breakfast."

Rachel looked at the pair uncertain. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude." In truth Rachel had no idea how to behave around the child, and was probably more nervous about the situation than Libby was.

Quinn shook her head dismissively. "Don't be silly, this is your house Rachel you can hardly be intruding. Now go, shower, breakfast will be ready when you're done."

Rachel bit back any further protest and went to do as commanded.

* * *

Freshly showered and feeling a little bit more settled, Rachel made her way back to the kitchen. She hesitated briefly at the doorway, taking a moment to affix what she hoped was a cheerful and non-threatening smile on her face. Quinn was standing at the kitchen island, stirring what Rachel deduced was pancake batter in a bowl and while she couldn't see Libby, she heard the excited chatter of the two year old who was presumably sitting at Quinn's feet.

From the conversation, Rachel could only assume that since Quinn would only occasionally look down with a smile and a nod while sometimes answering the babbling tot, the conversation Libby was having was mostly directed at the inanimate object perched on the floor beside her. "And Mommy's has to give you bath time because you dirty Tubby or no pancakes for you, right Mommy?"

Quinn smile down at her daughter again with a chuckle, "I said no such thing. I said _you_ were going to need bath time after you're done eating."

"But I not dirty," the curly headed tot looked up to her mother with a serious questioning frown.

Quinn only chuckled. "Not yet sweetheart, but we know you will be with syrup involved."

"Did you find everything you needed?" Rachel asked as she made her way to the coffee pot. The pot was half filled so she knew it was one of Quinn's "specialty" blends. Reaching into the cupboard she grabbed her favorite mug and poured a small amount, sniffing the contents cautiously. Detecting only the faint scent of cinnamon over the aroma of the coffee itself, she figured it wouldn't be too bad and filled the cup. Rachel took a sip as she pulled out one of the bar stools and sat at the kitchen island.

Quinn nodded as she gave the batter a few last strokes before setting the bowl aside. Turning toward the stove she cut a pat of butter and put it in the pan warming on the stove. "I did. Your kitchen has just about every pot, pan and gadget imaginable, and I went shopping for some basics the other day."

Rachel took a larger swallow of her coffee; maybe Quinn wasn't wrong about some of these flavored blends. "Yes, those are my Dad's failed attempts to get me to cook. He insisted that I just had to have all of it as it was essential. I can pretty much manage microwaving without burning down the house."

"That would explain why everything looks new. You don't mind if I use it?"

Rachel waived her hand broadly, gesturing to encompass the whole kitchen. "Please do, my dad will be utterly thrilled that it's finally getting some use." Rachel watched as Quinn tested the temperature of the pan, and finding it to her liking, poured small pools of batter onto the hot surface. Knowing that she couldn't avoid it forever and seeing that Quinn was now occupied preparing breakfast, Rachel stood up and made her way around the island.

Her earlier assumption had been correct and she could see Libby sitting quietly on the floor. However, she noted that as soon as she'd made her presence known, the excited chatter had stopped. As she rounded the corner she saw Libby get up from her sitting position and hastily cross the small distance to stand and attach herself to her mother's legs again while peeking slightly past them at the newcomer.

Rachel flicked her gaze to Quinn, and seeing the blonde was still preoccupied and probably used to the clutching toddler, she crouched down self-consciously. She really had no idea how to interact with the small girl. The endless hours she had spent socializing with the crème of New York's theater community had definitely not prepared her for this.

While Rachel had spent the better part of yesterday traveling with the mother and child, she had remained largely separate from the pair. It was clear that Libby was still recovering and adjusting, and Quinn had had her hands full trying to keep the small child settled.

"Um…Hi Libby, I think you may have forgotten someone," Rachel finally said, picking up the stuffed animal that she decided did indeed need "bath time". She held it out to the toddler and watched her reaction. Libby's little hands clutched at the fabric of Quinn's clothing tighter while she looked up with big brown eyes at her mother. "Mommy?" The child whined in a soft, distressed tone at the mere fact that someone else had her lifelong friend in their clutches, even if it was the stuffed cat's previous savior.

"It's okay honey, Rachel won't hurt him," Quinn soothed as she ran a hand over the curly mane. "She's just trying to give him back, right Rachel?" Quinn then looked to the other brunette occupying the kitchen for confirmation.

"Of course!" Rachel exclaimed brightly. "I would never hurt this lovely creature. I only wanted to make sure he was safe and back with you." She extended the cat in the direction of the little girl and waited for her to take him.

Libby looked up to her mother again for confirmation that it was okay to approach the stranger. When Quinn nodded her head that it was okay, Libby reluctantly pulled one arm away, careful not to stray too far away from her mother and held out her arm. Apparently that was as far as she would allow herself to venture near the unknown woman.

Rachel only smiled as genuinely as she could as she watched Libby maintain her distance. She cautiously scooted further towards the little girl not wanting to subject her to any further discomfort while retrieving her stuffed animal.

As soon as Mr. Tubs was in reach, without taking her eyes off the unknown entity, Libby quickly snatched him away and took up her previous position wrapped around her mother's legs while clutching at her best friend.

"I'm Rachel, we met yesterday remember? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Libby buried her head further against Quinn as Rachel spoke. Rachel was aware of Quinn pausing to glance at the pair, but she said nothing, letting the two brunette's work through the introduction on their own.

Several long moments passed and Quinn knew her normally shy around new people daughter wouldn't be the one to budge so she finally intervened. "Libby say hello to Rachel." Libby pulled back and a frowning gaze darted to her mother as if she was trying to make her eat vegetables. "Come on sweetheart, don't be rude. Rachel was the one who got back Mr. Tubs for you yesterday remember? She saved him, aren't you happy about that?" Quinn asked, playing on her little girl's good nature. The tot gave her mother one last look before her gaze settled on the singer still stooping uncomfortably in front of her.

"Hi," Libby finally said quietly causing Rachel to beam, feeling like she had cleared the first hurdle, even if it was at Quinn's behest.

"Do you like pancakes?" Rachel questioned, figuring that simple yes or no questions would be the easiest to draw the recalcitrant toddler out.

Libby paused briefly before looking back up to her mother, still silently asking for permission to interact with the other woman. Seeing Quinn nod her approval, Libby turned back to Rachel and gave a small nod of her own.

As Quinn went to move to the refrigerator to get something she needed, she realized that Libby was not going to budge. "Libby sweetheart, Mommy needs to move so I can finish making your breakfast. Do you think you can let go of Mommy's leg so I can finish?" Quinn sighed and looked to Rachel when the abundance of curly hair swayed from side to side in the negative.

"Hey Libby?" Rachel asked as she stood. "How about we help Mommy make breakfast? Do you want to help?"

Once again the little girl looked up to her mom to gauge her reaction. "Of course she likes to help because she's Mommy's special big girl helper, right Libby?"

"I a big girl!" Libby announced enthusiastically as her grip lessened and she took a few steps back from her mom to look up at her. "I can help Mommy!" The little girl beamed at being able to assist.

"Okay then Mommy's big girl, why don't you help Rachel get the fruit and juice ready so I can finish the pancakes and then we can eat, okay?"

Libby turned her head to look over at Rachel, suddenly not liking the ideal that she had to interact with the newcomer. "No! I help _Mommy!" _the little girl insisted.

"I don't know Libby, I think your mom may have it under control. If you don't help me I think I may end up messing things up. Now where do these go?" Rachel asked as she held up a bowl and a pitcher of juice and seemed to be working it out in her head, hoping the little girl would play along.

Libby pulled at Quinn's leg and huffed at the strange new girl. "Mommy go, you go help," Libby tried her best to move Quinn but seeing it was hopeless she only watched with keen interest as Rachel continued to disarrange the fruit.

"Noooo," Libby wailed out unable to take it anymore and she hastily made her way over to Rachel. She held up her little arms so Rachel could hand her the fruit bowl. When she had it firmly planted between two chubby hands she looked back up at Rachel. "Mommy and BB do like this." And she pointed to the cut up piece of fruit that she could see on the island counter and pointed to the bowl, demanding they be put in.

"Ah so that's how it goes," Rachel agreed as she emptied the cut up pieces of pineapples Quinn had already cut up into the bowl along with strawberries and cubes of melon.

"Like this!" Libby held it out in explanation for Rachel to see.

"Okay, now I get it. How about we get this to the table," Rachel beamed as she pointed in the direction of the dining room and then we'll come back for more okay?"

"Kay," Libby agreed, satisfied that she was being listened to, and that the new woman, while odd, didn't seem to pose any real threat.

"Thank you," Quinn mouthed to Rachel as she passed by her on her way to the dining room.

Rachel Berry-1, Libby-0, Rachel nodded triumphantly to herself as she followed the toddler into the dining room.

Within a few minutes Quinn had joined them with the platter full of gently steaming pancakes. Rachel surveyed the spread of food in front of her, impressed with what the blonde had been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time. She was positive it was the most food her kitchen, or dining room, had ever seen prepared.

"This looks really good Quinn, thank you," Rachel offered sincerely.

Quinn blushed faintly and brushed her hair behind her ear. "It was really nothing much."

"My morning meal usually consists of coffee and some type of breakfast bar, so you can definitely color me impressed," Rachel insisted.

Rachel watched as Quinn reached onto the floor to retrieve a small plastic block and place it on the chair beside her. "It's a booster seat," Quinn supplied when she saw Rachel's questioning glance. "It helps elevate her up high enough so that she can reach her plate." With Libby finally situated Quinn took her own seat, directly across from Rachel.

Rachel watched as Quinn quickly and efficiently prepared a plate for Libby, making sure to cut up the pancakes into small bites.

Quinn picked up the syrup bottle and immediately felt tiny hands wrap themselves around hers. "I can do it Mommy!" Libby exclaimed as she tried to pry the bottle away.

"I know you can sweetheart, but Mommy's just going to help you okay?" Quinn placated the little girl and allowed her to take the bottle but wrapped her hands around Libby's to monitor the out pour. The blonde remembered the last time her daughter was allowed to dispense her own syrup. Before she and Brittany could stop her, Libby had managed to dump almost the entire contents of the bottle on her plate.

Once Quinn was done and had served herself, Rachel reached for the platter and placed several of the golden brown cakes on her own plate.

"Oh my god," Rachel mumbled around the first bite. "This is so good." Quinn flushed slightly at the praise but didn't say anything. Rachel looked at Libby, who had already managed to get syrup on her face and hands. "Libby you agree with me right?"

Libby merely nodded her head at hearing her name, too busy trying to get a piece of pancake onto her oversized wooden fork with her hand, and ultimately into her mouth.

Rachel looked triumphantly back at Quinn. "I am going to take her silence and immense concentration as an implicit sign of agreement."

Quinn laughed. "Yes well she's two, and has probably been eating nothing but bland oatmeal for breakfast for the last month." Rachel watched Quinn shutter in distaste at the mention of the bland breakfast. Rachel flicked her gaze to Libby and saw the small brunette was making a similar face at the mention of the breakfast staple.

Seeing the question in Rachel's eyes Quinn answered the unspoken query, "My parents, or rather my father, don't believe in spoiling children, so breakfast was always oatmeal. Always."

"Well they don't know what they're missing," Rachel declared, continuing to eat. "Because these have to be the best pancakes I've had in ….well maybe ever." Rachel paused briefly. "Just don't tell my dad, he would be crushed. Where did you get the recipe?"

Quinn shrugged. "I've worked in quite a few diners over the years, so it's just the result of picking up things here and there."

"So it's your recipe then," Rachel clarified, not understanding the blonde's modesty.

"I guess, but it's not like it's a big deal, pancakes are pretty basic," Quinn insisted.

"Well I disagree, and anytime you want to make them I will be more than happy to help Libby eat them." Rachel looked at the toddler, her plate half eaten, and smiled. "You'll help me eat them right Libby?"

Again the small child nodded her head in the affirmative, not wanting to waste time replying verbally while there were still pancakes to be eaten.

* * *

Rachel placed the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. Breakfast had concluded without major incident, though she had been shocked at the amount of mess the small girl had managed to generate in such a short period of time. She counted it as a small victory that Libby had actually spoken to her a couple of times, though granted at Quinn's urging. She wasn't exactly sure why she felt compelled to get the toddler to warm up to her, but she was determined that she wouldn't fail.

Quinn had started to clear the table at the end of their meal, but Rachel had quickly insisted that she would take care of it. She hoped Quinn hadn't been offended when she had insisted that maybe Libby would like a bath to remove some of the sticky residue that had seemed to coat the small girl from head to toe.

Since it was a Sunday, Rachel didn't have any of the usual vocal lessons or acting classes that comprised the majority of her week. Though she knew that the blonde had the day off work, she wasn't sure what Quinn's plans were for the day and was debating about seeing if she wanted to go and do something with Libby. Plus, it also made sense that she be comfortable around the child as well.

Rachel was mindful of Santana's insistence that the pair spend more time together, so that their interactions wouldn't seem forced or awkward. With only a week before their public debut, between Rachel's schedule and Quinn's work and childcare obligations, there wasn't going to be a lot of opportunity to practice their couple persona.

She pondered possible child friendly activities that would allow her and Quinn to talk but was interrupted by a knock at the front door. She frowned as she made her way over to find out who was there. She wasn't expecting anyone, and she never got drop in visitors. Her fathers had called yesterday, Leroy had been particularly keen to determine that everything was okay after she had abruptly ended the call placed at the Fabray residence, but she had convinced them that the three of them needed a bit more time to settle in together before entertaining visitors.

She knew that she wouldn't be able to hold her parents off forever however, and it was only a matter of time before they demanded to meet the newest, littlest addition to the family.

She opened the door surprised to find Santana and Brittany. "Since when do you knock?" Rachel questioned the Latina as she stepped back to allow the pair entry.

Santana rolled her eyes and pointed at her companion. "She insisted, claimed it was rude to just barge in. I told her it's not like we would be interrupting anything since I'm fairly sure neither of you have even entertained taking advantage of your new living arrangement and the fact that you're actually supposed to be a couple, if you know what I mean."

Rachel merely raised her eyebrows in response knowing exactly what Santana was referring too, but chose to ignore it. Instead she focused on the fact that Santana had had a key for years, and never once knocked before barging in to Rachel's apartment. "Hi Brittany, nice to see you again," Rachel greeted Quinn's friend warmly.

Brittany smiled in response. "I hope you don't mind me just dropping by like this, we tried to call but couldn't get an answer, Santana insisted that it was fine."

"It is more than fine. I'm sure Libby will be thrilled to see you, Quinn had a hard time settling her in last night, so I'm sure the sight of another familiar face will be more than welcome." Rachel looked back and forth between the two curiously. "You came together?"

"I figured she would want to see the rug rat, and since I had some things to discuss with you and Quinn I figured I would do my good deed for the week and offer her a ride," Santana supplied before the blonde could answer.

Rachel bit back a smile, knowing that if she let it show Santana would get irritated and defensive. Santana only went out of her way for people she liked, and driving clear across town to where Brittany's apartment was, and then drive her back uptown, was most definitely out of her way.

"Well I'm glad you guys decided to drop by, unfortunately you just missed breakfast. Quinn made pancakes," Rachel replied.

"Well isn't that just the most domestic thing ever," Santana quipped.

"Thank you Rachel, but we're fine we actually ate before we came over," Brittany responded, sending a chiding look at the Latina.

At this revelation Rachel did send a challenging look her friend's way, one eyebrow raised in question. Santana had no trouble interpreting the look and crossed her arms defensively across her chest. "What? I was hungry, girls gotta eat."

"Mmmm, I'm sure," Rachel replied, a smile peaking into her tone. "Brittany I'm sure Quinn is done bathing Libby by now if you wanted to wander down to her room and say hi." Rachel wanted a moment alone with her friend to grill her.

Brittany excused herself, leaving the two brunettes alone. Instead of bombarding Santana with questions Rachel just continued to gaze at the other woman, an expectant look on her face.

It didn't take long for the Latina to crack. "What? Stop looking at me like that. People eat breakfast, there's nothing noteworthy about that."

"It's okay Santana, you can admit it, there's no shame in it," Rachel replied soothingly.

"Shame in what? I have nothing to admit," Santana insisted staunchly.

"You like her," Rachel concluded happily, clapping her hands together twice.

Santana scoffed dismissively. "I think all this stress has finally gone to your head Berry. I simply offered to give someone a ride, and got hungry on the way over here, you are in traditional Rachel fashion blowing everything all out of proportion."

Rachel eyed her friend speculatively but refrained from pushing her any further. While Santana liked to claim that Rachel was the stubborn one, she had nothing on the other woman when she decided to dig in her heels about something. If she actually did like the blonde waitress, the last thing that Rachel wanted to do was push her on the matter and have her retreat simply on principle.

"If you say so," Rachel finally conceded.

"I do," Santana replied, arms crossed defensively across her chest.

"What brings you by this morning anyway?" Rachel asked, effectively changing the topic.

Santana eased her defensive stance, now that the threat to her reputation had been removed. "I wanted to check in on my favorite little social experiment and see how everything was going. You were freaking out pretty badly before you left." Santana eyed the surprisingly placid singer. "You seem to be holding it together pretty well; I was half expecting to find you locked in your bedroom."

Rachel sent her friend a glare. "I'm hardly that bad Santana, I can adapt to change." Seeing the frankly disbelieving stare she was getting from the other woman Rachel rolled her eyes. "I can," she insisted. If anyone wanted to dispute her adaptability she would argue the point all day long. Santana liked to talk a good game, but Rachel was almost positive the Latina couldn't have handled someone coming and invading her personal space the way Quinn had.

"So that's the only reason you stopped by? Wouldn't a call have been just as effective?"

"I'm gutted Rachel, are you not happy to see me?" Santana asked with mock hurt. "There was actually another reason I came by though, I wanted to make sure you and Quinn hadn't forgotten about that event on Saturday, and that you two were prepared for your public debut."

Rachel bit her lip. "We haven't forgotten about it, so much of the stuff with Libby has taken up so much of Quinn's attention that we haven't really had a chance to talk about it."

Santana nodded her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I figured as much. Well you two are just going to have to suck it up, because you need to be prepared to wow them." The Latina eyed the small singer thoughtfully. "Can you rearrange your lessons and classes this week? It would be great if you could free up some serious time to spend with Quinn."

Rachel nodded her head. "Well I can, but I'm not sure what Quinn's schedule is? We'll have to ask her."

"Ask Quinn what?" Quinn questioned as she came back into the room, Brittany trailing behind with a smiling Libby in her arms. The toddler was chattering animatedly to the tall blonde, clearly happy to be reunited with her friend.

Santana turned to great the new arrivals. "Holy shit!" the Latina exclaimed. "It's like mini-mini-me!"

"Santana!" Rachel cried swatting her manager in the arm. "Language!"

"Shit sorry," Santana replied contritely, only to immediately realize her mistake when the other three women continued to glare at her. "Right. I'll work on it."

"See that you do," Rachel insisted primly.

"What did you need to ask me," Quinn repeated as she made her way over to the couch and sat down. Brittany settled nearby on the floor with Libby and some of her toys, obviously just as happy to see the toddler as the girl was to see her.

Rachel took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, while Santana dropped into one of the chairs situated across from the pair.

"If you could rearrange your schedule this week; you two have your first public appearance on Saturday and I want to make sure you're prepared," Santana answered the blonde.

Quinn frowned and shook her head. "I don't see how, my boss is already freaking out that I had to take this weekend off, there is no way he is going to let me off any more shifts."

Santana let out an aggravated sigh. "There is an easy solution to this you know, if you would just stop being so damned stubborn."

Quinn crossed her arms across her chest and glared at the brunette. "I have already told you that I am not quitting my job. I have committed myself to making sure people accept us as a couple, and I will meet that obligation, but I am not going to quit my job because it's inconvenient for you."

Santana held up her hands in defeat. "Whatever, you're going to be the one that's exhausted because you insist on making this more difficult than it needs to be. Who am I to argue, just make sure you don't look like a hot mess on Saturday."

"I'm sure I can manage to look presentable," Quinn replied frostily.

Santana gave a short laugh. "Well it's my reputation on the line here too, so I am not going to be leaving that to chance. I'm going to need you to carve out sometime in the coming week. While I'm sure you really wow them at Rick's House of Salmonella I need you to look like you belong on Rachel's arm, so I have arranged for you to have an emergency appointment with my stylist." Seeing the blonde open her mouth to object Santana held up a hand to quell her response. "This is not up for debate. You need to look a part, and this is part of that. We also need to go shopping for a dress."

"Why can't I just wear something of Rachel's again?" Quinn questioned grumpily.

"Because while you might be able to get away with wearing one of Rachel's cast offs to meet the in-laws there is no way you can pull that with the kind of people that will be there on Saturday. They will be able to spot an ill fitting, out of place garment before you even take your first drink, and they won't hesitate to _oh so kindly_ comment on it."

"Santana's right Quinn, these people are worse than sharks, they can smell blood in the water and they won't for a second hesitate to exploit any perceived weakness or difference." Rachel smiled warmly at the blonde. "Think of them as the more grown up, infinitely more polite but vicious versions of your high school self." Rachel wanted to make Quinn understand just what she was up against.

Quinn sighed, resigned. "Fine."

"My schedule is fairly flexible, and this is important, so just let me know when works for you and I will make it happen," Santana replied. Santana looked toward the floor, where Brittany continued to keep Libby entertained. "And no rug rat."

"She's not a rug rat," Quinn forced out through gritted teeth, "she's my daughter."

Santana waived her hand dismissively. "You say daughter, I say persona no grata, make sure you find someone to watch her."

Quinn rubbed her temples, trying to ease some of the tension that was building. "Brit do you think you would be able to watch Libby for me at some point this week?"

Brittany looked up from her spot on the floor and furrowed her brow, trying to remember her work schedule. "I would Quinn but I think we are both on days this week."

"Don't you send her to like school or something?" Santana questioned.

"She's not even three yet," Quinn replied archly.

Santana shrugged. "Well daycare or something then, I mean what do you do with her while you are off saving the world from palatable foodstuffs?"

Rachel looked at the blonde, curious as to the answer. She honestly hadn't given a lot of thought to who would be looking after Libby. Quinn hadn't really said anything about it, so Rachel had assumed that it was all worked out. Judging by the blonde's reaction to Santana's last minute outing however, it would appear that perhaps the waitress's child care situation wasn't as taken care of as Rachel had thought.

"Brittany and I usually tried to work opposite shifts, and when we couldn't arrange that, there was a lady in our building who would fill in," Quinn answered. The blonde ran her hands through her hair, disturbing the blonde locks. "I have been so focused on just getting her back that I haven't really thought too much about what I was going to do. I guess I just assumed Brittany and I would keep the same arrangement."

Brittany looked up from her spot on the floor. "You know I'm fine with that Quinn, I love watching Libby. I will call tomorrow and see if I can get my shifts switched around."

Quinn smiled at her friend but shook her head. "No, but thank you for the offer, I don't want to cause issues for you at work. You know how unreasonable Carl can be about rescheduling shifts." Quinn exhaled loudly, followed by a steadying inhale. "I will call Mrs. Bellings and see if she can watch her this week."

"Did you want me to call an agency for a nanny?" Rachel offered hesitantly.

Quinn glanced quickly at the singer but shook her head. "Again, thank you, but no. In addition to the cost, I really don't want to leave Libby with any strangers at the moment. She needs as much routine and familiarity as possible right now."

"You know there is a really simple solution to this," Santana couldn't help but interject one more time.

Quinn glared in the other woman's direction, but Rachel interrupted before the two could get into another verbal altercation. "That's fine. Just know that the offer stands if you want to revisit the option," Rachel offered.

Santana leaned back in her chair. "So what did you three have planned for the day?"

Rachel looked to Quinn, wanting to defer to the blonde.

"I hadn't really planned much beyond spending time with Libby and getting her settled in, why?"

Santana shifted forward in her chair, letting her hands dangle between her legs. "Well like I was telling Rachel, you two need all the "couple time" you can manage before Saturday. So if you have nothing else pressing on your schedule it would seem like today is the perfect opportunity to venture forth and practice pretending like you didn't just meet at a bar and have a drunken hookup."

"Do you mind?" Quinn questioned frostily as she angled her head towards her daughter.

Santana rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she doesn't know what I'm talking about." The Latina eyed the young mother speculatively. "Or maybe she does and you have been leaving out some pertinent details."

Quinn glared back at the other woman, not appreciating the insinuation. "She most certainly does not, but that's not really the point. They are like small information sponges at this age, so if you could kindly watch what you say around her it would be _greatly_ appreciated."

Santana huffed. "Fine. It would be a perfect opportunity for you three to spend some _quality family bonding_ time. Better?" Santana questioned sarcastically.

"Much," Quinn bit out shortly.

"I was actually giving this some thought earlier," Rachel interrupted the quarreling duo. "I just wasn't sure what would constitute an age appropriate activity for Libby."

Quinn looked at the brunette singer in surprise. "You were?"

Rachel nodded, fidgeting with her hands nervously. "I thought it might be nice to do something fun with Libby. The past month couldn't have been easy on her." Rachel wasn't sure how Quinn would take her involvement. She didn't want the blonde to think that Rachel was overstepping her bounds, or trying to interfere with Quinn's parenting style.

Instead of getting annoyed or angry Quinn simply sent the brunette a small smile, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.

"I usually just take Libby to play in the park on the weekends," Quinn offered. "So if you didn't have any objections we could do that."

Rachel pondered the question. "I don't have any objections to that," Rachel answered. "But if we are going to the park anyway, how would you feel about going to the zoo? The Central Park Zoo is smaller than the Bronx Zoo, but I remember enjoying it when my dads would take me there."

At the word zoo Libby's head popped up and she looked at her mother intently. "We go to zoo Mommy?" she questioned hopefully.

Quinn looked between the two brunettes and blew out a breath. "Well I was planning on taking her to the zoo for her birthday, but I suppose it won't hurt to go a little early."

Rachel bit her lip contritely. "Oh Quinn I'm sorry I didn't intend to spoil your plans."

Quinn waived off the apology. "It's fine. She deserves a treat anyway, so this actually works out well."

"If you're sure? We can do something else instead," Rachel offered.

"No, we go to zoo!" Libby demanded.

Quinn sent Rachel a wry look, and reached over to run her hand through her daughter's hair. "Yes baby girl, we can go to the zoo." Libby squealed happy at the news and jumped up, her toys and play time with Brittany quickly abandoned.

"We go now," she insisted grabbing her mother's hand and trying to pull her off the couch.

"She doesn't just take after Rachel in looks," Santana quipped sarcastically.

"We'll go in just a little while," Quinn informed her daughter. "First you have to put your toys away."

"Kay, be right back," Libby quickly complied. The toddler immediately returned to her small pile of toys and bent down to gather them in her arms. She started to head back down the hallway, but realizing that she would be all alone in a strange place she froze. She looked imploringly at Brittany. "BB you come too."

Brittany pushed up off the floor and turned to Quinn. "I'll help her put her stuff away."

"Thanks," the mother responded gratefully.

Santana watched the pair disappear down the hallway before turning back to face the couple on the couch. "So did you want us to tag along?"

"To the zoo?" Rachel exclaimed in surprise. She was definitely not wrong about her friend's feelings toward the fair haired waitress. Rachel didn't even think Santana had enjoyed the zoo when she'd actually been a child.

"Yes to the zoo," Santana scoffed. "Someone has to make sure the two of you don't spend the entire day keeping a polite distance and making inanely polite conversation. You two have been cohabitating for a few weeks and you hardly seem any more comfortable around each other."

Rachel turned to Quinn. The blonde and her friend had already gotten into a few verbal squabbles, and she didn't want to inflict the Latina on Quinn if it was going to add to the stress she was already under. "Do you mind if they go?"

Quinn gave Santana a measured look, before shrugging her shoulders. "I suppose it would be okay," Quinn finally conceded. "Besides I'm pretty sure Libby is going to insist that Brittany go with us, besides she loves animals, so she'll probably enjoy it as much as Libby, if not more."

"Fabulous," Santana answered, causing Rachel to look at her dubiously. If Santana Lopez was excited about going to the zoo she most definitely had it _bad. _"Appearance is everything and we can't afford to have people questioning the validity of your relationship, which is _not _the type of press we want or need." Santana snapped her fingers. "That reminds me." She dug into her pocket and drew out a small cloth drawstring bag. She tossed the bag to Rachel to catch. "To keeping up appearances."

Rachel opened the small pouch and upended the contents onto her palm. Two platinum bands, both generously encrusted with diamonds winked back at her. Quinn leaned over to inspect what Rachel was staring at and drew back sharply when she finally saw.

"Please tell me those are fake," Quinn pleaded.

Santana laughed. "Are you kidding me? Maybe that's how they play it in that little bumpkin town you're from, but this is New York. If you tried to wear CZ they would blacklist you so fast you wouldn't be able to see it coming."

Quinn swallowed nervously, eyeing the wedding bands like they were deadly snakes, ready to strike at any moment. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable…"

"Well you better get comfortable, because you two need to be sporting some bling when you show up on Saturday. Everything is a competition with this crowd, and this is about as modest as I was willing to go, so suck it up and deal." Santana waived her hand dismissively. "Plus they are insured so don't worry too much about it." She paused for a moment, considering. "Though it might not be a smart idea to wear this to your workplace, probably not the type of attention you want to be attracting."

Seeing the two just sitting there Santana grew impatient. "Well stop just sitting there and staring at them, put the damn things on."

Rachel shook of her momentary stupor and examined the two bands closely. Finally selecting the one that she thought would fit her finger she experimentally slid it on. Finding that it did in fact fit she handed the other hand over to Quinn.

The blonde took it gingerly; still acting like it would bite at any moment. Reluctantly she slipped it onto her ring finger, looking up the Latina in surprise when it was a perfect fit. Seeing the unspoken question Santana answered simply, "Brittany."

Rachel gathered her wits first and sent an appreciative smile towards her friend and manager. "Thank you Santana, it hadn't even occurred to me how odd it would look if we showed up without wedding rings."

"That's what you keep me around for. And don't thank me yet, you might want to wait until you get the bill."

Seeing Quinn pale slightly at the announcement Rachel was quick to reassure the blonde, "I'm sure they weren't that expensive."

Santana laughed. "Believe what you want to; just don't say I didn't warn you." Santana stood up from her chair and shooed her hands at the duo sitting on the couch. "Don't just sit there, you two are going to need all the help you can get, so the sooner we get going the sooner I can start observing the mating habits of the _lesbianis undersextus_."

* * *

Quinn stood slightly to the left of the zoo's admission gate, waiting for Rachel and Santana to return with the tickets. She had tried to pay for the outing or at the very least for herself and Libby, but Rachel wouldn't hear of it, insisting that this had been her idea so she should pay.

"Mommy let's go," Libby whined and tugged impatiently on Quinn's hand.

"We will Libby, just a little while longer, okay?" Quinn looked down at her daughter and seeing her huff, she smiled and ran hand through her hair. She couldn't seem to stop touching her daughter, still not quite able to believe that she was finally back. Quinn vowed that if for some reason the legal proceedings didn't go her way, she was going to just disappear with Libby; there was no way she was going to allow her to be sent back to her parent's.

Yesterday had been extremely difficult with Libby vacillating between withdrawn and clingy. When Libby realized that she wasn't going home, but instead to another new and different place, she had had a mini-meltdown and Quinn had to spend the remainder of the evening trying to calm her down.

She seemed to be doing better today, seeing Brittany again had done wonders for calming her down. Her daughter had clearly missed her oversized playmate.

"Mommy," Libby whined again, "wanna go in now," she grumbled.

"You need to be patient Rachel is doing it as quickly as she can." Truthfully Quinn was starting to wonder what the hold-up was as well. She could easily see the brunette at the ticket kiosk, and she had apparently been talking to the vendor for a few minutes. Longer than would seem necessary to simply purchase three zoo passes.

Taking the opportunity of some alone time away from the two brunettes Quinn turned to her friend. "So you and Santana?"

Quinn watched as a light blush bloomed on Brittany's cheeks. The other blonde shrugged her shoulders. "It's nothing. She was just being nice and offered me a ride."

Quinn scoffed. "I don't think that woman does anything just to be nice. She must expect something."

"She hasn't exactly hidden that fact, but I have told her I don't really do the casual thing."

"And yet here she is," Quinn replied suspiciously. Her friend hadn't had the best of luck with relationships, and she would hate to see her taken advantage of, especially if it was by Rachel's friend and manager. The situation they were in was delicate enough without adding unneeded relationship drama to the mix.

"We go in yet?" Libby asked, her big brown eyes looking questioningly as she tugged on her mother's hand again.

"A little bit longer peanut," Quinn reassured her daughter. "Which animals do you want to see first?"

"Mr. Tubs!" Libby exclaimed without hesitation. "And Baloo, and Dumbo," Libby listed off, recalling the animals from some of her favorite movies. "And the tall ones," the little girl lifted her arm in the air and stood on her toes to indicated height, "tall spotty ones, Mommy!"

Quinn laughed. "Well we can certainly go see if they have any cats like Mr. Tubs. But they may not have all those other animals here at this zoo. And the tall spotty ones are called giraffes," Quinn informed her daughter.

"We go see them now," Libby demanded once again. "C'mon BB, we go right now," the tot insisted as she grabbed onto Brittany's hand and tried to move the two adults forward.

Quinn looked up and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the pair of brunettes headed their way, not sure how much longer she could keep Libby from storming the gate. As Quinn watched the brunette cross the short distance to them, the light fall breeze ruffling her loosely curling hair, she brought a hand up self consciously to her own practical, but certainly less than stylish pony tail.

Santana's admonishment that's she wasn't quite in Rachel's league, and that if she didn't work on her appearance no one would ever buy them as a couple, echoed in her mind. Quinn knew that she was attractive, but she was also aware that she hardly had the time to spend on worrying about the little details, like manicures, salon treatments and the newest fashions. Even if she had the time between work and Libby to worry about them, there was simply no way to afford them.

A part of her wondered what the other woman thought of her, but she shook off the concern as foolish. It didn't matter what Rachel thought of her, or if she was out of the other woman's league. This was a business transaction, nothing more, and she just needed to make sure she held up her end of the bargain.

"Sorry that took so long," Rachel apologized brightly, her arms full of an assortment of materials. "I was all set just to get the standard day pass, but then when I explained how excited Libby was to see all the animals the ticket salesman was nice enough to tell me about the different family season passes available."

Quinn bit back a groan. She had done a fair amount of research on the various pricing options and she knew that family passes ranged anywhere from around $130-$1500. Something told her that the wealthy singer had not opted for the cheapest option.

"So I figured it made sense to get the Conservation pass, it lets us in to the four zoos, the New York Aquarium and there are options to attend special private events, or have personally guided tours and lectures. Plus they gave me this adorable t-shirt." Rachel held up the child sized garment with the picture of an adorable baby polar bear on the front.

"That was too much Rachel," Quinn protested weakly. She was seriously going to have to find a way to get the other woman to stop spending money; at this rate she was going to lose track and never have any hope of paying her back.

Rachel simply smiled and waved off the concern. "It was nothing." Rachel took a moment to sort through all of the stuff she was holding, handing the entrance badge, which was hanging on a lanyard to each of the adults to put around their necks.

"We go NOW?" Libby interrupted.

Rachel smiled down at the young girl. "Don't you want to put on your shirt first?" Rachel questioned, holding out the garment to the toddler. Instead of answering her Libby turned her back and grabbed Brittany's hand, effectively snubbing the brunette.

"C'mon BB, let's go see the kitties," Libby insisted, dragging her friend along. Brittany looked at Quinn to see if it was okay to go ahead without them and Quinn nodded her head in approval.

Seeing the slightly hurt look on Rachel's face Quinn hastened to reassure her. "She's just getting used to you. As soon as she warms up to you it will be fine." Quinn took the child sized t-shirt from the shorter woman. "Thank you for thinking of her though."

Rachel smiled weakly. "No it's okay. This has to be extremely confusing for her, the last thing she needs is some stranger trying to befriend her."

"This is really fascinating and all," Santana broke in, "but we did have a purpose in coming here, and it wasn't so that Rachel could figure out how to make friends." She pointed significantly at the two women standing in front of her. "You two need to get your familiarity on, and the sooner the better."

Rachel sighed at her friend as the trio began to make their way to the entrance gate, not wanting to let Libby and Brittany get too far ahead. They each flashed their entrance badges at the gate attendant and were waved through. Quinn smiled when she spotted Libby and Brittany standing a short distance away, studying the map of the zoo intently. Brittany was leaning down to talk to Libby, the two clearly debating which animals to see first.

"And what exactly do you suggest Santana," Rachel queried.

"Well for starters you could, oh I don't know, actually _touch_ each other?" Santana snipped rhetorically. "I mean you keep a good two foot bubble between you at all times, and while that would be totally believable if you had been married for a few years, you are supposed to be newlyweds."

Santana clasped each woman firmly on the shoulder and pushed the two together. Seeing that they still weren't taking any initiative the Latina rolled her eyes. "Now hold hands," she ordered with forced patience.

Quinn looked at Rachel briefly before reaching down and lacing her fingers with the brunette's.

"This is weird," Quinn spoke first, stating the obvious.

"It's weird," Rachel confirmed, shifting her grip a little.

"Very weird," Quinn agreed.

"Fucking weird," Santana chimed in with an eye roll. "Which is exactly the point, this needs to be as natural as breathing. So for the rest of the day you two are going to remain attached."

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" Rachel questioned.

Santana glared at her deliberately obtuse friend. "Except if you have to go to the bathroom."

"Oh okay, I mean I know you said we are supposed to get close, but that seems a little bit _too _close," Rachel rambled on.

Quinn raised her free hand and pointed to where Libby was bouncing up and down impatiently while staring at her mother, having finished her study of the zoo's layout. "We should probably get going before we have a riot on our hands."

Rachel and Santana nodded their agreement and the trio headed the short distance to meet up with the rest of their group. Quinn tried her best to not focus on the foreign sensation of someone else's hand entwined with her own. "So did you two figure out which animals you wanted to see first?"Quinn asked when they rejoined Libby and Brittany.

Libby jumped up and down in excitement. "Mommy we see kitties, and a bear, and monkeys," the toddler chattered excitedly, clearly forgetting her earlier list of animals. The child's excitement was momentarily dulled when she spotted her mother holding hands with Rachel.

"You not touch my Mommy!" She commanded Rachel with a glare and reached out to pull Quinn's away from Rachel's.

Quinn looked at her daughter in surprise. She hadn't really dated since she had Libby, so the young girl was not used to sharing her mother with anyone except Brittany, who she viewed as a beloved aunt. Quinn hadn't really given any thought to how her daughter would take her mother being close to someone.

Quinn reached out with her free hand and brushed back her daughter's curls, and also gaining the toddler attention. "Rachel is Mommy's friend," she explained to the two-year-old. "You know how you like to hold Brittany's hand?" Seeing Libby nod Quinn continued. "Well Mommy likes to hold hands with her friends too."

Libby looked at her quietly for a moment. "BB Mommy's friend. You hold BB hand," Libby offered with perfect child logic.

Quinn shook her head. "Mommy wants to hold Rachel's hand," she explained patiently.

Libby looked at the pair, still disgruntled by the situation. Seeing that her mother wasn't going to budge the little brunette huffed and grabbed her mother's free hand and pulled her forward. "We go see kitties now," she demanded.

Quinn allowed herself to be pulled forward and the trio, soon joined by Brittany who grabbed Libby's other hand, headed off toward the snow leopard habitat.

Santana, who had been left behind, scowled after the small group and crossed her arms across her chest. "What you're just going to leave me here?" she called after the departing quartet.

* * *

"The day not going quite the way you planned," Rachel teased her scowling and pouting friend. The pair was waiting for Quinn, Brittany and Libby to return with some lunch. Rachel had tried to pay, but the other two women insisted that it was on them.

Santana responded with a dark glare at the small diva. "That kid is a serious twat block," the Latina groused.

"Santana!" Rachel scolded, surprised that her friend would actually say such a thing.

"Well she is," Santana grumbled. "Every time I try to make a little headway with Brittany the little ankle biter either scowls at me, or starts grabbing at Brittany to get her attention."

"Awww, has big bad Santana Lopez finally met her match in a two and a half foot tall toddler?" Rachel continued to tease her friend. Rachel actually thought it was good for the Latina to finally have met a woman that didn't instantly fall into Santana's bed. Libby–1, Santana Lopez–0.

"Laugh it up," Santana bitched. "Just be glad you aren't actually trying to make time with her mother, because I'm pretty sure if you weren't already used to never having sex you would die of sexual frustration."

Rachel drew herself up straight. "I think I am making wonderful progress."

Santana threw her head back and laughed. "Right. Progress. Is that what you call being completely ignored?"

"Well at least she doesn't try to run away every time I look at her," Rachel bit back playfully. "Brittany seems _very_ impressed with your ability to frightened small children."

"Whatever," Santana groused. "I refuse to let her get the best of me, I will prevail." Rachel just laughed and shook her head. Leave it to her friend to get into a fight with a toddler over a woman.

"Well on the bright side Quinn and I are doing better," Rachel responded. "That was the reason you came along after all right? To monitor our progress and make sure it was to your satisfaction."

"You two have made some progress," the Latina begrudgingly replied, still clearly disgruntled by her own lack of progress. "Don't get complacent though you know how those people can be."

Rachel nodded. She and the blonde had taken opportunity of their forced closeness and relative privacy to discuss what to expect on Saturday night. The closest thing that Rachel could think to liken it to was their recent visit to Quinn's parents; something to be endured and hopefully over as quickly as possible and that no matter how hard you tried to befriend them or make a good impression they would still treat you dismissively.

The blonde had not looked happy at the prospect and had asked Rachel why she put herself through this time after time. Rachel asked herself that same question quite often, but she had told Quinn the same thing she always told herself. Someday it would all be worth it when her name was up in lights and they were all trying to curry favor with her instead of the other way around. It had to be worth it; otherwise Rachel had completely wasted her life up to this point. Failure was simply not an option.

Quinn gently wiped Libby's face with one of the many paper napkins they had brought back with them when they went to retrieve lunch. The small zoo hadn't had much in the way of concessions but she had managed to locate a vendor selling hotdogs and soda. Libby had been thrilled.

The end result of course was that now she had ketchup smeared all over her face and shirt, and Quinn was doing her best to clean the sticky red substance off her fidgeting daughter. Without conscious thought she brought one of the napkins to her mouth and wet it slightly, seeing that the dry napkin just wasn't going to cut it.

Finally satisfied with the result she released her daughter, who immediately ran to rejoin Brittany, who would never put her through the indignity of a public face cleaning when there were still tons more animals to see. Quinn turned to see the look of mild horror on Rachel's face.

"What is it?" Quinn asked concerned, looking down and wondering if she had food smeared all over her.

"You…you..just…you just …you cleaned her with _spit_!" Rachel said the last word in a horrified whisper, almost as if she were afraid someone would overhear.

"And?" Quinn asked confused.

"And! There is no and," Rachel declared excitedly. "That can't possibly be sanitary."

Quinn raised an eyebrow, not impressed with the other woman's reaction. "Trust me, parents have been doing it since the beginning of time." Quinn smirked playfully at the still disturbed woman. "In fact I'm sure yours have done it a time or two themselves."

Rachel drew her head back and squared her shoulders. "My father is a doctor, he would never do that. He is well aware of all the germs that are passed in human saliva."

"And she wonders why she had such a hard time finding a date," Santana quipped, doing her best to get Brittany to laugh and finally notice her. Unfortunately Brittany appeared to be in yet another intense conversation with her pint sized nemesis.

"Well as much as I would like to stay here and debate the germ carrying yield of the average drop of human saliva, I think we should probably move on. Libby is going to need a nap soon, but she really wanted to visit the petting zoo."

When they had gone to the snow leopard exhibit Libby has been enthralled by the big cat, but had been utterly devastated when it was explained to her that while it may resemble Mr. Tubs, there was no way she was going to be able to cuddle with this kitty.

Quinn had explained that while she couldn't pet the kitty there were other animals that she could touch. Libby had been on a mission to get there ever since. Not wanting to cave in to all her daughter's demands in an effort to make up for the recent disruption Quinn had held firm, and they had slowly made their way through the rest of the exhibits.

Libby had enjoyed visiting with all the other animals, but she had not forgotten her mother's promise of the petting zoo.

"Petty zoo, petty zoo!" the child exclaimed demandingly, having apparently forgiven her mother for the indignity, and returned to her side to pull on her hand.

"Fine," Rachel conceded, with one more skeptical look at the blonde mother. She bent down to smile at Libby. "You ready to pet go pet the sheep?"

"Yes! Yes!" In her excitement to actually get to touch the animals her apathy towards Rachel was momentarily forgotten.

Quinn smiled down at her bubbly child, finally starting to see the Libby she used to before the visit to her parents. She grabbed Libby's hand firmly in her own and reached out with the other to take Rachel's, having gotten used to it after spending the better part of the morning attached to the other woman.

When she saw the short brunette looking at it dubiously Quinn wondered what the problem was. Finally understanding dawned and she rolled her eyes, closing the short distance between them and grasping the reluctant woman's hand. "It won't kill you," Quinn chided.

"Besides," Santana interjected with a laugh, "even if you two don't remember it I'm sure you have already exchanged way more fluids than that."

"Santana!" Rachel scolded, scandalized.

"What, it's true," the Latina defended. Seeing that her pint sized competition was currently attached to her mother's hand, Santana sidled up to the other blonde in the group. She held out her hand invitingly. "I'm feeling kinda left out," she pouted, indicating that everyone else in the group was holding hands.

Brittany looked at the other woman appraisingly. Finally she held up one hand, pinkie extended. "I'll give you a pinkie, you have to earn the rest."

Santana smiled brightly and nodded her head. "I'll take it," she decided, hooking her little finger together with the other woman's.

Quinn shot the pair a sidelong glance, still not sure how she felt about the apparently casual woman trying to make time with her friend. She supposed it wasn't really her place to interfere but she promised herself she would kick Santana's ass if she actually hurt her kind hearted friend.

In a short time the group had reached the pens that contained the animals that were deemed safe to interact with. She heard Libby's awed gasp and smiled softly, glad that Rachel had suggested this activity for them today. While Libby would have enjoyed a day at the park, it wouldn't have as effectively captivated her attention and taken her mind off her recent trip to Quinn's parents.

Having finally spotted animals that were within her grasp, Libby dropped Quinn's hand and started to dash off. "Whoa there peanut," Quinn called out, reaching out to catch the back of her fleeing daughter's jacket. "You need to wait until Brittany or Mommy is with you."

The little girl looked like she was going to argue, but when one of the nearby animals let out a loud noise her eye's grew wide and she stepped unconsciously closer to her mother, wrapping one arm around Quinn's leg.

"Okay Mommy, you come too," Libby insisted, eyeing the animals with a little more caution.

Quinn rested her hand on her daughters head and tilted her face up to meet her own. "Why don't we start with the baby lambs, they are just your size."

Libby nodded her head solemnly. "Kay."

Quinn laughed and nodded her head while leading her daughter the short distance to the lamb pen. She released Rachel's hand so she could kneel down behind her daughter. She rested one hand lightly on Libby's arm, and the other on her shoulder, gently bracing the small girl while also providing moral support.

Noting the new arrivals, and knowing that new arrivals usually meant food, one of the tiny lambs had ambled over. Seeing the hesitation on her little girl's face Quinn rubbed her should gently and urged her arm gently forward. "Go ahead, it's okay to touch him."

Eyes wide Libby slowly extended her hand toward the small creature. When the lamb curiously nuzzled her hand to see if she was holding any of the food pellets that were usually offered she let out a surprised shriek and giggled, pulling her hand back.

"He licked me!" she exclaimed.

"He sure did. Why don't you try again." At her mother's urging Libby once again extended her hand, and again the small lamb nuzzled the toddler's palm. Emboldened the small girl cautiously raised her hand and patted the lamb firmly on the head.

Realizing that there was no food to be had the lamb turned away and went off in search of a new target. Libby frowned in disappointment and turned to face her mother. "Make him come back," she demanded.

"Why don't we let him visit some of the other kid's so they get a turn too, and go see one of the other animals," Quinn offered.

Libby considered the suggestion and finally nodded. "Okay. We go see a bigger one," she decided, having gained some courage from her recent success.

Quinn looked around and spotted the piglet pen nearby. "Want to go see the piggies?" she questioned as she bent forward nuzzled into toddler's neck, making playful snoring sounds.

Libby giggled wildly and tried to squirm away from her mother. "Stop momma, tickles," Libby cried out. Quinn relented and pushed herself to her feet. The small group made their way to the piglet pen, but Libby was deeply disappointed when she found out that she wouldn't be able to pet them.

Quinn was looking around for another animal for her daughter to interact with when she felt Rachel tap her on the shoulder. She followed where the woman was pointing and saw a pen that contained some alpacas. Nodding her head she leaned down to speak to her daughter.

"How about we go see those guys over there? They look kinda like big sheep." Libby craned her neck to see where her mother was pointing and nodded her head.

"I get to pet them?" Libby questioned.

Quinn nodded her head. "Sure do."

Seeing as the animals were taller than the baby sheep Quinn bent down and hoisted Libby up, resting her on one hip. Libby wrapped one arm around her mother's neck and extended the other toward the curious alpaca. She wrinkled her nose up and giggled again when it nuzzled her hand much like the sheep.

Much like the lamb the animal quickly lost interest when it realized that there was no food to be had. Libby's face fell as her new friend started to wander off, and she turned to her mother with a quivering lower lip.

"Momma he leave," she whined.

Quinn smoothed back her daughter's hair. "Well he has a lot of people to see baby girl."

"Make him come back!" The little girl demanded. Quinn sighed. She hadn't really thought to bring much cash with her to the zoo, and what little she had had on her she had used to buy lunch. She looked around for Brittany, thinking about asking her if she had some change for one of the nearby food dispensers, but saw her standing a small distance away in her own little world with Santana.

She hadn't even realized that Rachel had left her side until she suddenly felt the brunette tap her shoulder once again and present her with a small paper cone filled with the small brown food pellets. She smiled in thanks and turned to Libby.

"Look Libby, Rachel brought you some food pellets to feed the alpacas. What do you say?"

Libby looked at the smiling woman and held out her hand. "Give it," the little girl demand, anxiously wanting more interaction with the animals.

"Elizabeth Lucinda Fabray that is not how you talk to people when they're being nice to you. Do you want to leave right now?" Quinn scolded. Libby shook her head adamantly as she paid rapt attention to her mother. "Now apologize to Rachel?"

Libby looked to the other woman, her big brown eyes showing that she had been properly chastised for her rude behavior. "I sorry," she muttered, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"It's okay, I know you're just a little anxious," Rachel explained, feeling bad for the little girl.

"Now what do you say?" Quinn asked a second time.

"Thank you," the curly head tot mumbled shyly.

"Thank you," Quinn told Rachel with a genuine smile and a little more convincingly than her two year had. "I promise she's not always this rude."

Rachel only nodded and gave a small smile to the mother and child duo.

"Okay, Libby hold out your hand like this." Quinn instructed the proper flat palm technique. When the little girl had correctly copied her mother's instructions, Quinn nodded her head. "Okay now make sure you keep your hand that way, we wouldn't want Mr. Alpaca to mistake your fingers for a food pellet."

Libby looked at her wide eyed and nodded her head. "Okay Rachel if you could just pour a small amount of food into Libby's hand." Quinn waited while Rachel did as instructed and then turned back to the animal pen.

The alpacas, having heard the telltale sound of food pellets in a paper cone, had wandered back over to investigate, and there was now a small group gathered around.

Libby eagerly extended her hand, careful to keep her palm flat like she had been instructed and squealed with delight when the hungry animals quickly crowded around and eagerly devoured the proffered food.

Her palm now empty she immediately turned and presented her hand to Rachel and silently demanded more. Rachel quickly refilled the girls hand and the procedure was repeated several more times. In just a few minutes the paper cone was empty, and Libby was frowning unhappily.

"Go get more," she demanded, staring at Rachel.

"Libby that is not how we ask for things," Quinn said with a frown, scolding her daughter once again for her lack of manners. "Now apologize to Rachel again," Quinn ordered.

"It's okay Quinn," Rachel dismissed the concern. "I can go get more pellets."

Quinn looked at Rachel with a shake of her head. "It's not okay. She needs to learn that she can't just demand things from people and expect to get them."

"Why not, Rachel does," Santana supplied finally rejoining the trio.

Rachel put her hands on her hips and turned to glare at her friend. "Santana I don't know why you must continue to paint me in the least flattering light possible. I am hardly as high maintenance and demanding as you like to make out…"

The diva's rant was prematurely interrupted by a wet smacking sound as a large gob of cud connected solidly with the side of her head. Quinn watched in horror as the globule slowly slid out of the other woman's hair, down her face, before finally falling to the ground with a plop.

Rachel froze, her words immediately cut short, and let out an unintelligible squawk. She slowly reached up to wipe at the side of her face, looking at her food smeared hand in disgust. Santana immediately doubled over in a fit of laughter, while Quinn handed Libby to Brittany and put a comforting hand on the shorter woman's shoulder.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Quinn questioned in concern.

"Fine," Rachel replied, her voice tight.

"Hey Rachel," Santana spoke up walking toward the pair. "You have a little something on your face. Here let me help you with that. "With exaggerated slowness the Latina licked her thumb and reached forward, as if to use it to clean off the diva's face.

Rachel swatted her friend away irritated and with forced civility turned to Quinn. "While I have had a most enjoyable day thus far, I think it may be for the best if we called an end to our outing so that I may go home and properly clean up."

Santana nodded her head in agreement. "Good idea, no telling how many germs are transmitted in alpaca spit." Rachel stiffened her shoulders and clenched her jaw but otherwise made no indication of having heard her friend's jibe.

Quinn nodded readily. "That's fine; Libby is overdue for her nap anyway."

At hearing this, the toddler that had been laughing right along with the Latina froze and shook her head violently.

"I not sleepy! I want to stay at zoo."

Quinn looked at her daughter with a shake of her head. "Not gonna happen little girl, it's time to go so you can take a nap and Rachel can get cleaned up."

Libby crossed her arms defiantly and scowled at the brunette. "She go, we stay at zoo," Libby insisted.

Again Quinn shook her head. "Nope. We have to go home with Rachel." Quinn motioned toward the blonde that was holding Libby. "Now say good-bye to Brittany so we can get going."

At hearing that she was going to be parted from her beloved friend Libby pulled back and clutched the woman more tightly around the neck. "BB come with me!" Libby demanded.

"Sorry kiddo, Brittany needs to go back to her apartment, now say goodbye, you'll see her again soon," Quinn promised. Instead of complying, not that Quinn had really thought she would, the small brunette clung even more desperately to her tall friend.

"It's okay Libby," Brittany tried to soothe the upset child, "I promise I will come and visit you really soon."

Gently Brittany pried the small arms from around her neck and placed the girl on her feet. The child immediately made a move to wrap herself around Brittany's legs, but before she could establish a hold Quinn reached down and scooped up the reluctant toddler.

"BB no leave," Libby demanded, her lower lip starting to quiver.

Brittany shook her head in apology. "I have to go, but I will see you soon." Brittany leaned forward and offered her check to the upset girl. "Give me a kiss goodbye." Libby stubbornly refused and shook her head, crossing her arms across her chest and pulling away. Brittany smiled sadly and leaned away.

"Okay, well I'm going to go," Brittany said, turning away slightly. Quinn watched her friend pause and turn back after a few steps, wanting to see if Libby would change her mind, but the young girl remained staunch in her refusal. When it finally set in that Brittany was really leaving Libby began to fidget in her mother's grasp, trying to get down.

"We go with BB," she pleaded desperately. Quinn felt like the worst mother on the planet but she resolutely shook her head no, and started to walk off in the opposite direction, Rachel and Santana silently following. Almost immediately Libby began to cry loudly, not at all happy with the conclusion to the afternoon.

Santana paused after a few steps and motioned after the departing blonde. "I'm gonna go offer Brit a ride." The Latina made a hasty escape, clearly eager to escape the fussing child.

Quinn looked at Rachel and offered up a silently mouthed apology as Libby's wails started to increase in volume, the small girl starting to turn slightly hysterical. When she let out a piercing shriek Rachel turned her head and looked at the child in a measuring manner.

"While the pitch is definitely off, her ability to hold a sustained note is really quite impressive. Have you considered enrolling her in vocal lessons?"

Quinn considered Rachel for a moment before smile broke out on her face at Rachel's attempt to make light of the situation. "Let's go home."


	10. Chapter 10 - And You Were There

AN: Okay looking back I know I say this every time but I am really sorry about the extended hiatus on this fic. When someone pointed out it had been almost two years since an update I thought for sure they were wrong; they were not. I have no excuse really, life got in the way and this just got shuffled to the back burner. The fact that Glee has NOT been holding my interest since they introduced "the new class" also did not help my motivation. But my life is back to its boring status quo so I have dusted this off, because even if it takes me forever, I am compelled to finish it. Even though it's been almost two years, I never forgot about it – unfinished fics nag at me.

While I can't promise super regular updates, because at this point history has shown me to be a liar on that front, I will promise to not make any of you still following wait two years again.

I apologize in advance if this sucks - it has been a looooong time since I wrote these characters but I did my best to try to get back into the flow of this story.

* * *

**Chapter 10: And You Were There**

Quinn slapped blindly at her bedside table. After a few misses her hand finally connected solidly with the torture device that was intent on disrupting her much needed sleep. She bit back a groan, knowing that she didn't even have the luxury of hitting the snooze button one time, let alone turning the blasted thing off entirely like her body was so desperately craving.

Shaking the last vestiges of sleep from her mind, she pushed herself upright, resolved to meeting the day head on. While she was unquestioningly beyond thrilled to finally have Libby back with her, she had somewhat forgotten just how completely exhausting running around after an active toddler could be.

If it was just a matter of settling into their old routine, Quinn was sure that she would have handled the transition much more easily. However, since they had moved across town, everything was taking extra time and energy, both commodities that the blonde waitress had in very short supply.

Wanting to disrupt her daughter's life as little as possible, Quinn had resolved to keep Libby's routine as familiar as she could. Unfortunately this meant that Quinn had to drive all the way across town each morning to drop Libby off with her sitter, only to then have to backtrack and then to get to work. While Libby seemed to be settling in and adjusting more quickly than Quinn could have hoped for, all of the extra travel time was taking its toll on the young mother.

Knowing that she had already delayed longer than was advisable, if she hoped to get her entire morning routine accomplished, Quinn reluctantly pushed herself out of bed and shuffled off toward the bathroom for her five minute shower. She had compromised a longer soak for the few extra minutes rest it afforded her. It had barely been a week and she wasn't entirely sure how long she was going to be able to keep up this pace.

Showered, dressed, and feeling slightly better equipped to face the day ahead, Quinn padded quietly down the hall to her daughter's room. She was still adjusting to the reality that her daughter had her own room. After the initial resistance the first evening, Libby had happily adopted the space as her own. Quinn supposed she had the separation to thank for girl's easy acceptance, because there was no way that Russell and Judy Fabray would have ever allowed a frightened toddler into their bedroom. Quinn knew first hand that any fears, nightmares, or illnesses were to be dealt with stoically and by yourself.

Shaking off the dark thoughts brought on from remembering her own childhood, she quietly cracked open the door to Libby's room and peaked in. Seeing the small girl still in the grip of slumber, tightly clutching Mr. Tubs around the neck, Quinn backed silently out of the room and decided to let her sleep a little longer. She would take the extra child free time to prepare Libby's breakfast and lunch.

Quinn entered the kitchen, only to stutter step slightly when she found that she wasn't the room's only occupant. Rachel was leaning against the kitchen island, head thrown back, thirstily chugging from her water bottle. Quinn could tell from the full length pants, sleeves, and the rosy flush on the brunette's face, that Rachel had once again forgone her morning elliptical routine for a run in the park.

She ran her eyes appraisingly over the trim form before her she silently cursed her friend, as she had every other time this week when she found herself unconsciously checking out her housemate. Ever since Brittany had floated the idea that she liked Rachel, Quinn couldn't help but recognize that in any other circumstances the petite singer was someone she definitely would have given a second, or third, glance. In her current situation however, the knowledge that she found the other woman physically attractive was at best inconvenient, and at worst something that could develop into a situation she wasn't prepared to handle.

When Quinn realized that she had been watching the brunette's throat flex and shift as she swallowed her after workout refreshment for far too long, she cleared her throat and decided to finally speak instead of stand in the doorway like a statue.

"Good morning," she greeted in what she hoped was a casual manner. The smaller woman jumped slightly, her head having been at an angle that didn't allow her a clear view of the doorway. With one final gulp she placed her water bottle on the counter and sent the blonde a dazzling grin.

"Good morning Quinn," Rachel replied brightly, bouncing slightly in place. Quinn eyed the other woman with something akin to envy, wishing she possessed even a tenth of the exuberant singer's seemingly boundless energy reserves. "And how are you on this fine day?"

Quinn made her way over to the coffee maker, thank god for automatic coffee pots with timers, and poured herself a large mug. "Awake," she answered simply.

Rachel sent Quinn a sympathetic look. Though the plan had been for them to spend as much time together this week as possible to prepare for Saturday's event, the blonde had barely been able to carve out enough time to take care of the bare essentials. Quinn was sure she looked every bit the hot mess Santana had predicted.

"No luck getting your shift reduced?" Rachel inquired kindly.

Quinn grimaced slightly, remembering her promise to cut back on her hours to devote more time to their charade. Taking a healthy sip of coffee she shook her head. "I honestly haven't found the right time to bring it up," the blonde responded apologetically. "Carl has his moods, most of them bad, and if I bring it up at the wrong time I'm likely to be looking at a total reduction in hours."

Rachel waved off the apology. "I only ask because you look so tired." Quinn frowned at the pronouncement, thought she honestly couldn't say she was surprised. Seeing the look, Rachel seemed to realize her mistake and hastened to apologize. "I'm sorry that didn't come out quite the way I intended, I have a habit of being a bit too frank sometimes."

It was Quinn's turn to wave off the apology. "It's not like you aren't right." Quinn ran a hand through her still damp hair. "I promise to find the time next week." She bit her lip worriedly. "I just hope that my lack of focus doesn't mess things up on Saturday. Maybe we can spend some time tonight catching up."

Rachel smiled and nodded her head. "I would like that. I didn't mention your job to make you feel guilty. Santana worries far too much, I'm sure we will both do fine." Rachel gave her a hesitant look, clearly debating about saying something. "Speaking of Santana."

Quinn valiantly fought back the urge to groan out loud. While she knew that the Latina was Rachel's closest friend, there was just something about that other woman that brought out Quinn's inner high school bitch, someone that she had worked very hard to put behind her.

"She reminded me _again_ that she would like to arrange a time for the two of you to go shopping before the event on Saturday."

Quinn rubbed her brow tiredly, feeling a headache beginning to form. Today was Thursday, and there was no way she could get out of her shift tomorrow on such short notice. She had half been hoping that if she just kept putting it off that they would cave and let her wear one of Rachel's old dresses again. Clearly she had underestimated Santana's determination, and if Rachel's emphasis on the word again was any indication, the shorter woman may have been shielding her from her friend's earlier demands.

"I can't tomorrow, but I took Saturday off entirely so we can go then I suppose," Quinn finally answered reluctantly. She had been planning to spend the day before the event with Libby, but since she had spent so little time already this week on preparing for Saturday, she realized that she was going to have to sacrifice the time with her daughter. Something told her that Santana was not going to budge on the "no rugrats" edict.

Rachel clapped her hands together happily. "Excellent, Santana will be pleased." Somehow Quinn doubted much of anything made the fiery brunette happy but she wasn't going to contradict Rachel on the matter. "I had planned to work on some arrangements on Saturday but if you would like, I can accompany you on your shopping trip."

Quinn smiled but shook her head. "Thanks but I'll be fine. I don't want you to disrupt your Saturday plans. I already talked to Brittany about babysitting on Saturday so she took the day off too. I'm sure she'll be able to come over a little earlier so you won't have to worry about Libby bothering you." While it was true that Quinn didn't want to disrupt the other woman's plans, she also had an ulterior motive for wanting to be alone with Santana.

In the years that Quinn had known her friend, she hadn't really dated all that often, but whenever she did she always managed to hook up with one loser after another. While Santana didn't appear to be a drug addict, and was clearly not unemployed, there was still something about the other woman that set off Quinn's spidey sense. Some alone time was just the opportunity she needed to get to the bottom of the other woman's motives and intentions.

"Oh Libby hasn't been a bother at all," Rachel piped up. Quinn was quite sure that she hadn't been, because the blonde had been making a concerted effort to make sure that the young girl intruded onto Rachel's life as little as possible. Though the other woman kept insisting that she was happy to have them there, Quinn couldn't help but doubt the sincerity of the claim. _No one_ was happy to have their life suddenly turned upside down.

"Speaking of which, I really do appreciate you trying not to wake Libby up, but you really don't need to disrupt your normal routine," Quinn insisted, gesturing towards the brunette's jogging outfit.

Rachel shook her head and crinkled her nose in a way that Quinn found adorable. "It really has been a refreshing change. I was just so used to my same exercise regimen that I failed to notice just how _boring_ it really was," Rachel confided, seemingly genuinely surprised at finding that spending an hour every day on the same piece of equipment listening to the _same_ song would eventually become monotonous.

"Well as long as you are enjoying yourself."

"I truly am," Rachel insisted earnestly. "What about Libby?"

"Hmmm?" Quinn questioned, not following the apparent _non sequitur_.

"Libby, has she been enjoying herself? I know she had a rough first couple of days," Rachel clarified, looking slightly nervous about the answer. Quinn smiled softly, touched by the brunette's concern.

"She's been a trooper," Quinn revealed. "She's actually settling in much faster than I would have expected. Prior to her 'visit' to my parents she hadn't really spent a lot of time around strangers."

"So no lasting damage then?" Rachel asked, half jokingly.

"Doesn't appear to be," Quinn answered reassuringly.

Rachel nodded her head. "Well I'm glad to hear it. I um…there's actually something I wanted to talk to you about regarding Libby." Quinn immediately stiffened, preparing herself for the worst. "My dads have been extremely persistent in their desire to finally get to meet her. I have been trying to hold them off as long as possible, but they will eventually just show up here if we don't arrange something."

Quinn blew out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She wasn't sure what always caused her to jump to the worst possible conclusion, okay well that wasn't quite accurate, past events had given her more than ample proof that life more often than not did not go her way. She had been expecting Rachel to declare that this just wasn't working, wasn't worth the hassle, and boot her and Libby out the door.

"Yeah, um that's fine," Quinn replied. "Since Saturday is going to be pretty full and I really wanted to spend at least one uninterrupted day with Libby this weekend, maybe we can set up a dinner next week sometime?"

Rachel smiled broadly. "That should be just fine, they will be happy to finally have a date set," Rachel confirmed. "Dad also wanted to sit down with you in a little more depth to discuss the custody case."

Quinn nodded, relieved to hear that her father-in-law was still on board for the case. "That would be great. The sooner I can put this whole nightmare behind me the better."

Rachel reached out and gave Quinn's arm a reassuring pat. "Dad is extremely good at what he does; I can promise you that Libby is not going anywhere." Quinn smiled in gratitude at the reassurance and tried her best to look as confident as the singer.

"Hungry," came a small disgruntled voice from the doorway. Quinn startled slightly at her daughter's voice, and flicked her eyes quickly to the clock on the stove. She bit back a curse when she saw the time; she had been so caught up in her conversation with Rachel that she had totally lost track of time and now she was behind.

Quinn crossed the room and knelt down in front of her daughter, smoothing her hair back. "Well why don't you go into the dining room and I will be right in with some cereal," Quinn coaxed. Libby gave a small grunt of ascent and shuffled past her mother. As soon as her daughter left the room, Quinn stood and blew out a frustrated breath, raking her hands through her now nearly dry hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mess up your morning routine," Rachel offered contritely, obviously sensing the blonde's stress. "Is there anything that I can do to help?" the brunette asked earnestly.

Quinn appreciated the offer, she really did, but her morning routine was something she had down to a bit of a science and she knew she would spend more time trying to explain to the other woman what she needed to do than it would take for her to just do herself.

Quinn settled for shaking her head and sending the brunette a small smile. "Thank you, but I think I am all set." She used her hands to gesture towards the doorway. "Besides I'm sure you are eager to get a shower in after your run, don't worry about Libby and me."

The young mother saw a flash of what looked like disappoint chase across Rachel's face before the brunette nodded her head and smiled. "Okay, well I will just get out of your way then, but just give a shout if you need anything."

Quinn hummed her agreement absently, having already dismissed the brunette from her thoughts as she rushed to complete the tasks she needed to get done so that she could make it to work on time.

* * *

Quinn trailed reluctantly after the brunette striding down the sidewalk determinedly in front of her. She had been dreading this particular shopping expedition for the last two days, knowing that she was likely in for one battle after another with the opinionated manager. However after Santana had shown up at Rachel's apartment with Brittany in tow, again, she was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of the other woman's intentions towards her friend.

However, she had another more pressing concern to take care of first. "Look, I know that Rachel agreed to pay for this dress, but I really think all of these places are too expensive," Quinn called out, hurrying her pace slightly to catch up to the other woman.

Santana looked at her askance, arching a brow slightly and giving Quinn a meaningful look from head to toe. "Yeah I'm just going to go ahead and _not _take shopping advice from someone who looks like they shop in the cast off bin."

Quinn felt her temperate spike as her face flushed with embarrassment. She was well aware that her clothes were hardly up to the standard set by Santana and Rachel, but she certainly didn't need that point driven home quite so publicly. Quinn reached out and grabbed the other woman's arm, dragging her to a stop.

"Look," she ground out between gritted teeth, trying to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention. "I know that Rachel agreed to pay for this, but I don't think that means that we can just ignore the price." She drew in a calming breath. "I also understand that I am probably not overly qualified to give advice in this particular area, but I know what some of these stores charge," she gestured vaguely up and down the street, "and there has got to be a somewhat reasonable alternative. I know that you probably don't believe me, but I really do intend to pay Rachel back for all this stuff, and I would like to be able to do it before Libby is in college."

Santana looked pointedly at the hand Quinn still had wrapped around her forearm. The blonde released her grip, but instead of backing away, Santana got right up into her personal space and jabbed a finger sharply into the center of her chest.

"I've been looking out for Berry since we were kids, I hardly need you to tell me how to spend, or not spend her money, and I really don't appreciate the insinuation that I am going to take advantage of her generosity." Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off by a pointed glare from the dark haired woman. "Rachel might have tons of cash, but I don't, and one thing I have learned over the years was how to shop the shit out of this city. Unfortunately since _someone_ couldn't make time until like eight hours before the event, we don't exactly have the luxury of shopping around. So we are going to go into one of these stores, find you a dress that won't embarrass Rachel and you are going to just have to deal with the price tag."

Quinn opened her mouth, but any protest that she may have been about to form died in her throat when she saw the imperious look the brunette was sending her way. Instead, Quinn sighed in defeat and nodded her head. "Okay _fine._ We'll do this your way," Quinn ignored the Latina's scoff, as if to say there was any other possibility, "but just so we're clear, I didn't think you were out to take advantage of her generosity. I just…" Quinn trailed off and shook her head.

"All this is just so out of my depth," Quinn finally continued, indicating the stores around them. "I know how much Rachel is counting on this relationship being her in, and I'm just freaking out that the _one_ thing I can do for her in this whole mess, I am going to royally screw up for her."

Santana's pissed expression softened fractionally and she clapped a friendly hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Well that's what I'm here for, my girl has worked far too long and hard for this, if you fuck this up for her I promise I will end you."

Quinn shot the brunette a startled look, and upon noticing the smirk, relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah you could stand to take a lesson or two on the 'how to reassure freaked out blondes' front."

Santana just shrugged. "I have always found positive reinforcement to be a highly over-rated motivational tool. Abject terror is much more my style. Now since you decided that you didn't want to spend time with me this week, devastated by that by the way, hows about we get this little shopping trip underway, we're short on time as it is."

Quinn nodded her head and once again trailed after the trailblazing manager. "I know that it can take a while to find that 'perfect dress', but it's only like 10:30, surely that's plenty of time to find a suitable dress."

"Well if we were only looking for a dress sure."

Quinn wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Well what else are we looking for?" Quinn had really hoped to get this shopping expedition done quickly so she could still salvage at least part of the day to spend with Libby.

"Not so much looking for as doing."

Quinn rolled her eyes, the woman seemed determined to make her dig for each and every answer. "So what else are we going to be doing?" she asked with exaggerated patience.

Santana paused briefly and gave Quinn a critical once over. "The clothes are only part of the package. If we are going to successfully conceal your menial labor roots, we are going to have to spackle, polish and buff you to within an inch of your life. Even then we only _might _succeed."

"You really do wonders for a woman's ego."

Santana shrugged. "I call 'em like I see 'em." Quinn glared at the brunette. "Okay I know that I may have not taken the best care of myself lately, but it's hardly _that_ bad," Quinn defended herself. If the raised eyebrow and smirk were any indication the Latina did not share her opinion on the matter.

"Your hair looks like it hasn't gotten a decent trim or conditioning in at least six months, while the color is nice it could do with some subtle highlighting. Skin, while commendably blemish free, is also lacking any kind of radiance; a proper facial would do wonders. The big disaster area though is your hands." Santana looked at said hands and merely shook her head. "Short nails are fine, I totally get that," Santana said with a smirk, "but there is no excuse for them to be all raggedy and torn, and seriously do you take a cheese grater to your cuticles cuz they are totally jacked."

"My god if I am such a disaster area why did you allow Rachel to go through with this whole plan in the first place?" Quinn asked her voice harsh. She knew that she had some areas of improvement, but hearing all her apparently glaring physical shortcomings laid bare had put her on the defensive.

"Look, all that shit is fixable, which is exactly what we are going to do as soon as we find you a dress. Once I get through with you no one will be able to tell that you actually work for a living," Santana joked.

"Seriously, what is your hang up with people that actually have to _work_ for a living? Not all of us are fortunate enough to have rich friends to create jobs for us," Quinn retorted. "If you have such an aversion to women who work for a living, then what is your interest in Brittany? She does the same kind of work that I do. So if that is what you think of me, then it would stand to reason it's the same thing you think of her. That woman is one of the sweetest people I have ever met, the last thing she needs in her life is someone that views her with contempt. If all you are looking for is an easy lay, look elsewhere."

"What the fuck crawled up your ass? Retract your claws blondie. I never said I had issue with it, so you can calm the fuck down. I have no issue with the fact that you work, what I and everyone else at that party tonight will have issue with is that you look like you engage in manual labor." Quinn opened her mouth to argue again but Santana quickly cut her off. "Furthermore, Brittany and I are none of your business, but I know what it is to be protective of a friend, so I will tell you I don't hold her in contempt, and if all I was looking for was an easy lay I could get that anywhere."

Quinn eyed the other woman, trying to measure her sincerity.

"Look don't shoot the messenger, but if those bitches get wind of what it is you actually do, no one is going to take this relationship seriously. It is one thing for Rachel to have met you in some dive. Some of them will even find it sweet; like some real life lesbian Cinderella, but if they find out you are _still_ working there shit will get weird. Fast."

Quinn raked her hand roughly through her hair. The more she learned about the party, and the party goers, the more apprehensive she became. "And you and Rachel are friends with these people?" Santana she could see, the brunette certainly seemed like she would fit right in with the judgmental bitchy crowd, but other than their initial rough start, Rachel had been mostly sweet.

"Fuck no," Santana was quick to reply. "Rachel, and by extension I, tolerate these jackals because you have to play nice with them if you ever hope to break onto the scene. Piss them off and they will blacklist you, and these people know how to hold grudges."

"Maybe it would be better if you just stopped trying to prepare me, the more you talk the more freaked out I get," Quinn admitted.

Santana looped her arm across Quinn's shoulders and pulled her tight to her side. "Relax, I got this. You think Rachel's hot right?"

Quinn stutter stepped and almost came to halt before the arm the Latina still had wrapped around her shoulders propelled her jerkily forward. "Umm what?"

Santana laughed. "So yes. We'll revisit that later, but the point I was trying to make is that the Rachel you see today was not always how she was. It took a lot, I mean a _lot, _of work to get her to the fine ass state she is in today. If I can mold Berry with her love of argyle and animal sweaters, I can certainly work with you."

Quinn smirked slightly, trying to picture the petite brunette in the getup Santana described. "Seriously?"

Santana nodded. "Swear to god. It was bad. Luckily she came around and followed my advice to burn that shit." Santana dropped her arm from around the blonde and sent her a sideways glance. "You good?"

Quinn thought about it for a moment before nodding. She was Quinn Fabray, she had survived Russell and Judy, risen to the top of her high school hierarchy, dealt with an unplanned pregnancy, and had successfully cared for her daughter virtually alone for years. She totally had this.

* * *

Rachel watched the apartment door close behind Santana and Quinn with no small amount of trepidation. Brittany had agreed to come over and babysit Libby, both for the shopping trip and later when Quinn and she had to attend the function. Brittany wasn't Quinn however, and Rachel didn't feel right about just leaving the blonde waitress to fend for herself in the apartment, so Rachel knew she was going to have to spend time with Libby as well.

It wasn't that Rachel _didn't_ want to get to know the toddler; she just wasn't sure how to go about it. Every interaction she had tried to initiate with the small child seemed to end awkwardly. Her inability to connect with the girl brought all of her old insecurities rushing to the surface. She had always had a hard time relating to other children and if not for Santana would likely have had no friends her own age.

She walked slowly into the living room and observed the easy interaction between Brittany and Libby with envy. Within minutes of her arrival, Brittany had the small girl totally enthralled and giggling up a storm. All Rachel had managed to coax out of the toddler in their admittedly brief interactions was a shy smile. Granted Brittany had known the girl her whole life and Rachel was still largely a stranger, but the brunette couldn't help but think that was less a matter of time, and more a matter of some deficiency on her part.

"Are you two having fun?" Rachel suppressed a sigh when she saw the small girl freeze at the sound of her voice. Brittany caught the motion as well and sent Rachel a brief look of reassurance before reaching out to place a hand comfortingly on Libby's back.

"We are, but I think it would be more fun with one more. Libby would you like it if Rachel joined us?" Brittany asked the small child, her voice infused with enthusiasm. The little girl remained silent, and Rachel did her best not to feel the sting of rejection. After the visit to the zoo on Sunday, Rachel had spent very little time with the duo, partly because of the hectic schedule that Quinn was keeping, but Rachel suspected the waitress was making sure to keep Libby from disturbing her.

Spending time getting to know Quinn had always been part of the plan, and since they had agreed to leave Libby largely out of the media spotlight, Rachel had figured she would have no need to get to know the toddler. Except for her dads, there was no one that needed to be convinced that the two brunettes had any sort of relationship. Quinn seemed to be doing her best to keep to that original plan in keeping Libby and Rachel separate.

While Rachel was very glad that her routine had for the most part gone unchanged, she was surprised to discover that a part of her actually wanted to get to know the child better. She had always figured that one day, after getting married and winning her first Tony, she would eventually have kids. Her partner would of course have to carry the child, since the demands of the stage wouldn't allow Rachel to work while pregnant. While she didn't have anything against adoption in theory, Rachel wasn't wild about waiting on things, and adoption was a notoriously lengthy process.

She had always just assumed she would have children but she now realized that she never really stopped to think what that would actually entail. Her thoughts of children had always been in the abstract, vague future projections, hazy and indistinct. When faced with something she didn't understand Rachel would first research, and then fully armed, she would attempt to tackle the problem.

If it was a situation where repetition could lead to improvement she would practice. She wasn't entirely convinced that interpersonal relationships fit that requirement, but it was the method with which she was most comfortable. So she had resolved to just keep trying. Rachel Berry did not give up once she set her mind to something, and she was determined to get Libby to accept her.

"Libby?" Brittany prodded the silent child.

Libby chanced a quick glance at Rachel from under her lashes, and apparently sensing no immediate threat, shrugged her small shoulders before turning to Brittany and saying, "Okay."

"Splendid," Rachel replied smiling widely. She took a few steps closer to the pair and squatted down so that she was more on the child's level. "And what do we have here?" Rachel asked surveying the small assortment of toys scattered about in a rough circle.

When Libby failed to respond Brittany answered for her. "Libby and I were just about to serve tea for Mr. Tubbs and other important guests. Why don't you take a seat and join us?" Rachel smiled at the blonde in gratitude for bridging the silence that had started to grow awkward and crossed her legs as she lowered herself fully to the floor.

"And who are the other guests joining us for tea today Libby? I have met Brittany of course, and Mr. Tubs and I go way back," Rachel smiled at the girl, trying to remind her of their first meeting when she had reunited the child with her beloved stuffed animal. "But I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting your other companions."

Rachel had read somewhere, during all of her research preparing for Libby's arrival that it was best to talk to children as you would adults. That it helped them develop their vocabulary, but as Rachel took in the blank look on the child's face, she wasn't so sure.

"Tell Rachel who your friends are Libby," Brittany once again helpfully prodded.

Encouraged by her friend, Libby finally piped up. "This is Neelo, Albert, and that is Fruffy." Libby gestured to the rag tag bunch of stuffed of animals, pointing to each when she introduced them. Rachel smiled warmly at each in turn and then dipped her head formally.

"It is very nice to meet you all." Rachel turned to look at Libby, happy that the girl was actually looking at her instead of once again ducking her head. "What refreshments are you serving this afternoon?" Rachel questioned Libby. Libby scrunched her brows together and looked at Rachel as though she thought she was just a little bit slow.

"Tea," Libby replied, as though if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"Oh of course, how silly of me," Rachel replied, chagrinned. "May I have some? It looks delicious."

Libby eyed her silently for a moment before coming to some silent conclusion. It must have been in Rachel's favor because Libby suddenly thrust a small battered plastic cup into Rachel's hand.

"Thank you." Rachel raised the cup to her lips, as though to take a sip, figuring that was the thing to do.

The look questioning Rachel's intelligence was once again gracing Libby's face. "I didn't give you tea yet," Libby scolded.

Rachel halted the cups motion to her mouth and brought the cup back to rest on her lap. "Oh." Rachel flushed in embarrassment; she was suddenly vividly reminded why she had never played well with other children. While she had a vivid imagination when it came to visualizing her goals, she had never done well with abstract concepts like playing make believe.

Libby grabbed the small tea pot and leaned over so she could 'pour' the tea into Rachel's cup. Task completed she resumed her spot and stared at Rachel. "Now you drink," she commanded.

Rachel once again lifted the small cup to her lips, pinky out, and made an exaggerated sipping noise. "Just as I thought; delicious," she declared smacking her lips loudly.

Things went a little more smoothly from that point forward, but Rachel remained on edge. Playing did not come naturally to her and she couldn't quite relax enough to just go with the flow. She still remembered when the other kids had made fun of her in her own youth, and part of her was waiting for that here. Which was ridiculous, she was a grown woman, she should hardly fear being judged and found lacking by a three-year-old; yet she did.

After another 15 minutes of stilted playacting, Rachel reached her breaking point, excusing herself so she could go to her studio. Creating the space had been one of the first things she had commissioned after taking ownership of the apartment. She had wanted to create a space with superb acoustics that would allow her to practice her craft.

In addition to the singing space she also installed a small area to practice her dance routines. The room was fully sound proofed and equipped with audio and video recording equipment so she could view and critique her performances. It was her sanctuary, and it was where she retreated to when she was feeling stressed out and overwhelmed.

She had no need for the recording equipment today; she just needed to sing and center herself. Walking over to one of the control panels she brought up a list of her instrumental selections and queued up one of her old favorites. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment when the first strains of "Blow, Gabriel, Blow" filtered through the air. It didn't take long before she lost herself in the music, and the worries over her inadequacy where Libby was concerned melted away.

As the last notes of the song faded away, Rachel jumped in alarm when she heard a squeal and loud clapping from behind her. Popping her eyes open and spinning around she saw Libby standing in the doorway to her studio; she must have neglected to pull the door all the way closed behind her.

"Again, again!" Libby demanded, hopping up and down. Rachel was taken aback; Libby had never been so animated around her before. Even at their recently concluded tea party, the child had mostly interacted with Brittany, only engaging with Rachel when the brunette asked her questions directly. Never one to turn down an encore Rachel smiled warmly.

"Do you have any requests?"

"Sing!" Libby insisted, still hopping slowly.

Rachel's smile faltered a bit. "Do you have a favorite song?"

Libby looked confused, her hopping slowing to a stop, and she shook her head no.

Rachel was shocked, how could the child not have a favorite song! The very concept was anathema to her. "Well what is your favorite movie?" Rachel may not know much about playing with children; but she did know that almost all children's movies were essentially musicals; she had quite an extensive collection, from the classic to the modern, so was confident that whatever the child picked she would know at least a few numbers.

Libby continued to look at her blankly, and Rachel could see the child's earlier excitement starting to dissipate. Not wanting to lose this nascent connection she desperately started listing some of her favorites.

"Have you ever seen Bedknobs and Broomsticks?" Head shake.

"Annie?" Another shake.

"Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?" No.

"Sound of Music?" Again, no.

"Marry Poppins?" Nope.

"Wizard of Oz?" Rachel cast out desperately. The child's exposure to classic movie musicals was obviously woefully lacking, but surely she had at least seen the Wizard of Oz, it was a national treasure.

Rachel let out an audible gasp when Libby once again showed no recognition. "Libby I need to have a discussion with your mother, the fact that you have never seen the Wizard of Oz is a travesty. A travesty!" Libby looked at her wide eyed.

While Rachel was half tempted to march immediately into the living room and commence watching the movie she instead decided to try animated features.

"Beauty and the Beast?" Non.

"Cinderella?" Niet.

"Little Mermaid?" Nein.

"Lion King?" Nee.

"Aladdin?" Nah.

Rachel shook her head sadly, visibly distraught. "I…Libby…" Kneeling down so that she was at eye level with the young girl Rachel reached out slowly and grasped the child's hands. "We're going to fix this Libby, you have my word." Libby continued to stare at Rachel wide eyed, clearly not knowing what to make of the exchange. Sensing that she was about to lose the child's interest, and realizing that she probably was going to scare the girl, if she hadn't already, Rachel dropped the girls hands and marched back over to her music control panel.

"While I would prefer to have you listen to the score in the original order so that you are able to fully appreciate the scope and flow of the plot I will make an exception in this case. I think you will enjoy this selection for its upbeat tempo and lively music."

As with any performance, Rachel immediately immersed herself in the music and gave it her all. So when the music for the "It Really Was No Miracle" segment of the Munchkinland Sequence from the Wizard of Oz started to filter through the speakers she became Dorothy Gale. Once the music started Libby immediately started clapping and hopping again.

"_It really was no miracle.  
What happened was just this.  
The wind began to switch, the house to pitch,  
And suddenly the hinges started to unhitch.  
Just then, the Witch - to satisfy an itch,  
Went flying on her broomstick,  
Thumbing for a hitch."_

Lacking background vocals, or any other singers, Rachel improvised and sang both Dorothy's part, and altering her voice and mannerism slightly, those of the Mayor and townspeople.

"_And oh, what happened then was rich.  
The house began to pitch.  
The kitchen took a slitch.  
It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch,  
Which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch._

_The house began to pitch.  
The kitchen took a slitch.  
It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch,  
Which was not a healthy situation for the Wicked Witch.  
Who began to twitch and was reduced to just a stitch  
of what was once the Wicked Witch!"_

Rachel smiled broadly at the now happy toddler, who was giggling and smiling. "Again, again!"

"You liked that?" At Libby's vigorous nod Rachel bent over and poked the girl playfully in the stomach, causing her let out a happy squeal "I thought you might, it was one of my favorite as a child. How about another one?"

"Yes, yes! Sing more, more Wicked Witch."

"There is actually a very interesting back story to the Wicked Witch, but I think that musical may have to wait a few years, so until then I think I have just the song." Rachel returned to the control panel and punched in "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead".

Once again, singing all of the parts. Libby was immediately entranced, and by the time they reached the last chorus Libby was joining in. Rachel did her best not to wince at the child's exuberant, though decadently unpolished, rendition.

The song once again came to an end and Libby immediately grabbed Rachel's hand and dragged her towards the control panel. "Do it again!"

Before Rachel could form an answer, there was a knock on the studio door and Brittany popped her head inside.

"Rachel have you seen…" the blonde caught sight of Libby mid sentence. "…Libby." Brittany smiled apologetically at Rachel. "I'm sorry if she disturbed you, I was getting her lunch ready and left her with her toys in the living room."

"It's quite alright," Rachel insisted, grinning broadly, cheeks flushed from her recent bout of singing and dancing around the studio. "Libby and I were just enjoying some musical selections from the Wizard of Oz."

"Ding dong the witch is dead!" Libby cried.

"Well how about we take a little intermission and get the munchkin some lunch?" Brittany asked the little girl. Brittany held out her hand, but Libby remained by Rachel's side, still clutching her hand.

"You have lunch too," Libby ordered, tugging at Rachel's arm.

Rachel met Brittany's eyes and smiled. "How can I possibly say no?"

* * *

Santa looked at her watch, for what Quinn was sure was at least the 20th time in the last ten minutes, tapping her foot impatiently as the elevator rose.. "Come on, come on, come on," Santana muttered under her breath.

Quinn was not as eager as her companion for the elevator to reach its destination. It had been a long day so far, and Quinn knew that it really hadn't even started yet. Santana had marched her in and out of store after store, relentlessly shoving dress after dress at her, ordering her to spin, twirl, and then inevitably take it off, only to start the whole process over again. Just as Quinn was reaching her breaking point the mercurial woman had finally found a dress that she deemed acceptable.

The ordeal wasn't over yet though; oh no, now it was time for the makeover. Quinn always imagined a day of beauty treatments would make her feel pampered; it hadn't. If anything it had been a rather demeaning experience that had mostly just been a list of all of her physical flaws as Santana and the various stylists saw them. Apparently the flaws had been many, because now they found themselves running behind schedule, which was the cause of the Latina's impatience.

The elevator finally chimed and the door slid slowly open. "Finally," Santana muttered striding determinedly out, the garment bag containing Quinn's dress slung over her shoulder. Quinn followed reluctantly behind, clutching the bag containing her shoes and clutch.

"Okay, you are going to have to hurry," Santana said, checking her watch for the 21st time. "I will go raid Berry's jewelry stash, and try to calm her down. I am sure she is flipping out about us being so late. You just need to get dressed and try not to mess up your hair and make-up. Think you can manage that?" Santana threw over her shoulder as she unlocked the door and entered Rachel's apartment.

Quinn rolled her eyes and huffed. "Yes Santana, I am quite sure I can manage to dress myself. I've been doing it for years now."

Whatever Santana had been about to say was cut off by a happy squeal. "Momma!" Libby rushed to greet her mother, arms outstretched, clearly wanting a hug. Quinn saw Santana's brow wrinkle in disapproval, no doubt worrying that Libby would mess up all the stylists' hard work, but Quinn didn't really care. After the day she had had, and the night that was ahead, she wasn't going to refuse a hug from her little girl.

"Hey baby." Quinn squatted down, engulfing Libby in a tight hug and kissed her noisily on the cheek. "Did you have fun with Auntie Britt today?"

Libby nodded emphatically. "Uh huh, we had tea, and lunch, and songs. Then I hadda nap, then I colored, and a snack. Now you can come play," Libby insisted, pulling away from the hug and tugging on her mother's hand, trying to compel her to follow.

Quinn smiled slightly and shook her head. "Sorry sweetie Mommy has to go get ready. Rachel and I have to go out tonight. Auntie Britt is going to get you dinner, and a bath, and then she'll read your stories."

Libby pouted, her lower lip poking out as she crossed her arms. "No," she insisted shaking her head. "You was gone a long time. You stay."

Quinn felt her heart clutch, the guilt almost swamping her. All things considered, Libby had dealt with all the upheaval in her life recently like a real trooper, but every once in a while she would make a comment that would almost drown Quinn in regret and shame that she hadn't been able to protect her daughter.

"I can't honey, but Auntie Britt is going to stay with you. You like spending time with Auntie B don't you?" Libby was not swayed by the attempted appeasement and Quinn saw her lower lip start to quiver. Quinn reached out and pulled Libby close. "I know I was away a lot today, and I promise that tomorrow you and I will spend the whole day together, we'll do whatever you want. But Mommy has to go with Rachel tonight, she has a very important party to go to, and she needs me there with her."

"Party?" The word caught Libby's attention. A little boy in their old building had a birthday party shortly before Libby had gone to Ohio, and she apparently still remembered the festive occasion full of balloons and cake.

Quinn laughed and kissed Libby on the cheek once more. "Not that kind of party sweetie." Quinn untangled herself from her daughter and stood up, still clasping her hand. "Why don't you go find Auntie Britt and see if she needs help with starting dinner?" Quinn was relieved when the little girl scampered off without further protest, her attention successfully diverted before she could spiral into a full blown meltdown.

Quinn turned to see Santana standing quietly off to the side, still holding the garment bag with Quinn's dress. "Thank you for letting me talk to her, I know we're running late." Quinn held out her hand for the dress, and Santana shrugged nonchalantly before handing it over.

"Whatever," Santana said dismissively. "I'm not a total ogre, but when Rachel starts to have her own tantrum about being late it's all on you to diffuse it. You seem to have a way with over emotional diminutive brunettes. Now go," Santana commanded, pointing towards Quinn's room. "I am going to go check on Rach and then you two can get out of here."

* * *

"Where is she Santana, we should have left 20 minutes ago!" Rachel insisted shrilly, pacing back and forth across the living room. Santana rolled her eyes from her spot on the couch beside Brittany, who was bouncing Libby on her lap. The child seemed fascinated by Rachel's constant back and forth path, as well and her wild arm gestures.

"Would you chill out, it is not going to kill you to be fashionably late for once. It may even help your cause to not to look so fu…lipping eager for a change," Santana managed to check herself before letting the curse word slip. Being around kids was hard. When she chanced a glance sideways and saw Brittany smiling at her warmly she returned the look unconsciously. Maybe it wasn't so bad.

"It's rude Santana," Rachel insisted, still pacing.

"Yeah well so are they Rachel. Maybe if you stopped being so eager to lick their boots they would take you a bit more seriously," Santana retorted. She regretted the quip when she saw genuine hurt flash across Rachel's face. Santana sighed, she hadn't meant to snap at the brunette, but Rachel's fawning over these Broadway jackasses always pissed her off. Her one consolation was that tonight she wasn't going to have to be there to see it in person. "Look I'm sorry, but you seriously need to dial it back."

Rachel nodded, momentarily stopping the incessant pacing. "I know, I know. I just hate being late."

"Really? I never would have guessed," Santana muttered. "You hide it so well."

"Funny," Rachel replied. She looked at the clock on the DVR and once again resumed her pacing. "Can you just go check to see what is taking her so…"

"I am _so_ sorry," Quinn cut the rest of Rachel's sentence off, rushing into the room. "I had trouble getting the back of the dressed zipped up."

Rachel halted her pacing once again, any thought of scolding the blonde for her tardiness dying on her tongue. Quinn was gorgeous. Rachel had always known that the blonde was attractive, no amount of tiredness or worry over her daughter could conceal the blonde's natural beauty; but this, this was a whole other level, and it struck the brunette temporarily mute.

Realizing that Quinn was starting to fidget and grow nervous under her unblinking stare and uncharacteristic silence Rachel, shook her head to clear the cobwebs. "Oh, uh, no worries, we have plenty of time. You look..wow…you look lovely."

Quinn flushed at the compliment and looked down at her dress uncertainly. Santana had decided on a slate grey halter cut dress with a very classic and understated look. The one element of the dress that made it stand out was the deep plunging neckline, highlighted by some jade green beadwork. Quinn had tried to fight the other woman, not sure she was comfortable with revealing that much skin, but the Latina had refused to listen to her protests. They were already running behind schedule, and Quinn had finally given in, not having the energy to fight what she was sure was a losing battle.

"Thanks. You look really great too," Quinn replied, returning the compliment, and meaning it. While Quinn's dress was classic and understated, Rachel's was a vibrant green but with a similar plunging neckline. Where Quinn's dress was freer flowing Rachel's had a fitted Basque waist and ruching around the neck and arm areas. Both women continued to stand and stare until Santana stood up for the couch with a huff and motioned them with her hands to stand closer together.

They silently complied, edging closer to one another, both still a little flustered. Santana rolled her eyes and manually shoved them closer with a hand on each of their shoulders. She eyed them critically, muttering quietly to herself before finally throwing up her hands.

"Ai, it will have to do," she finally concluded. Brittany shook her head and placed Libby on her feet, standing from the couch and walking over.

"Don't listen to her," Brittany insisted. "You two look fabulous, they won't know what hit them." Quinn smiled at her friend, thankful for the support. It had been a long time since she had worn anything close to this formal, probably senior prom, and really that didn't even come close to her current ensemble. She was feeling a bit out of her depth, and her earlier fears of embarrassing Rachel were resurfacing.

Libby reached out to grasp her mother's leg but Brittany quickly swooped down and scooped the small girl up before she could make contact. She had already fed Libby and there was really no telling what could be on the toddler's hands. Libby frowned at being intercepted but settled onto Brittany's hip without too much fuss.

"Mommy looks like a princess," Libby insisted.

Quinn felt her blush deepen, and dipped her eyes. Rachel smiled at the girl and nodded her head. "She does look like a princess doesn't she?"

Libby nodded in agreement, but Quinn shook her head. "Hardly, but thank you."

"She should look like a princess; I made sure she got the full Vivian Ward today. Just try to avoid any appetizers with shells on them," Santana said with a smirk.

It took Quinn a moment to get the Pretty Woman reference, but when she did she gave Santana a flat stare. What was it with these two and referring to her as a prostitute?

Quinn flashed her eyes to the clock. "Should we get going?" Quinn wasn't really eager to go to the party, but she wanted to slip out before Libby had a chance to protest her departure, or Santana had a chance to make any more biting comments.

Rachel startled slightly and spun to look at the clock as well. "Oh goodness, yes we should definitely go."

Santana stepped forward. "Alright the car is downstairs waiting, just give John a call about ten minutes before you are ready to head out and he will swing around and get you." Santana turned her attention to Quinn. "You remember what I told you?"

In between forcing her to try on an endless parade of dresses, Santana had spent the afternoon drilling Quinn on what to expect this evening. She wanted the blonde well prepared for the types of people that she was going to be dealing with; catty, fake, and more than willing to stab you in the back for a chance to succeed. The more Santana told her about the crowd, the more Quinn was reminded of high school; and more specifically herself in high school. If she had to channel her inner mean girl to get through the evening she could do that, even if she hated it.

Santana had one more instruction; do not leave Rachel alone. The petite singer simply wasn't equipped to navigate those shark infested waters without a support system. Usually Santana accompanied her friend, ensuring that no one was rude or mean to Rachel, but she was handing that responsibility off to Quinn tonight, and she expected her to do the job; or else.

Quinn nodded her head. "I remember, and don't worry, everything will be fine." She turned to Rachel. "You ready?" Rachel nodded and Quinn leaned forward to give the safely restrained Libby a kiss on the forehead. "Be good for Auntie Britt and think of what you want to do tomorrow. Anything you want," Quinn promised.

The pair moved toward the door, Santana trailing after them. "And for the love of god, please remember that you two are supposed to be newlyweds, deep in the throes of new love. If you continue to stand there like strangers on the subway no one is going to buy this charade." Quinn rolled her eyes but reached out to place her hand on the small of Rachel's back, shooting a challenging look over her shoulder at the Latina.

As soon as the elevator doors closed Quinn removed her hand. "Sorry," she said a little sheepishly, "I figured it would help shut Santana up."

Rachel laughed lightly. "Very little can shut Santana up, and it's quite all right. Santana may need to learn how to say things with a bit more tact, but she isn't wrong in her assessment of how we behave." Rachel bit her lip, a worried expression flashing across her face. "I hope we have spent enough time together that we seem natural."

"I'm really sorry about that, I know we were supposed to spend a lot more time prepping, but with Libby's return it has just been so crazy," Quinn apologized.

Rachel turned to Quinn and laid a reassuring hand on her bare shoulder. "I wasn't trying to assign blame." Rachel shook her head. "Santana always says I worry too much anyway. I just like to practice, practice, practice, and I know that type of intensive schedule isn't possible for everyone. I'm sure it will be fine Quinn." Rachel let out a soft sigh. "Besides it's not like these people know me all that well anyway. As long as we aren't glaringly obvious we should pass muster without a problem."

The elevator reached the ground floor and they exited, side by side. The late September air still held the heat of a summer night, for which both were grateful since both of their dresses were sleeveless and Santana hadn't bothered to provide them with wraps. The car was waiting at the curb as promise and the driver hurried to open the back door when he saw the pair approaching.

"Ms. Berry," he said with a dip of his head as he offered her a hand to assist her into the car.

"It's actually Mrs. now John, may I introduce you to my wife Quinn," Rachel answered. It felt weird to say, which was exactly why she was doing it now. She and Quinn had been living together for almost three weeks, and besides brunch with her fathers, she realized that she hadn't really referred to the blonde as her wife. She was going to be doing a lot of that this evening so she figured a little last minute cramming couldn't hurt.

John had driven Rachel for years, and had escorted her and Jesse on numerous occasions. If he was surprised by the news he didn't show it, and merely smiled in response. "Well then congratulations are in order." He turned to Quinn to assist her into the car after Rachel was situated. "Mrs. Berry."

"Fabray, actually," Quinn corrected automatically, before catching herself and looking at Rachel uncertainly. They had never really discussed the whole name thing.

Rachel smiled broadly at John without missing a beat. "We are still in negotiations on the name issue," Rachel replied wrinkling her nose in amusement. John tipped his head in acknowledgement and closed the door after Quinn seated herself.

Quinn turned to Rachel, a look of contrition on her face. "Sorry, I didn't even think, we never really talked about the whole name thing, and it was just reflex."

"No need to apologize Quinn. It was my oversight; I should have thought to address this." Feeling the car pull into traffic Rachel sat back and reached over her shoulder to fasten her seatbelt. Feeling the brunette's eyes on her Quinn quickly followed suit.

"Should I take your name?" Quinn questioned uncertainly. She had never considered the need to change her name, especially since this arrangement was for such a short period of time. It seemed a needless hassle to go through all of that paper work twice, but if Rachel thought it would help bolster their façade she may not have much choice in the matter. While she had never really considered it, she also wasn't particularly tied to her family name. Her one qualm would be that for the duration of the year she and her daughter would have different surnames.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Rachel insisted, stopping Quinn's concerns before they could grow. She gave the blonde a reassuring smile. "Just as long as we know what we are telling people. I will be sure to introduce you by your full name."

"Thanks. If anyone questions it we can just attribute it to me not wanting a different last name than Libby," Quinn offered, since it was the truth.

Rachel nodded. "That's a good point; that would be rather odd. So how was your day with Santana? Not too traumatic I hope."

Quinn let out a short laugh. "I am pretty sure she could give drill sergeants pointers, but overall it was fine." Quinn turned to fully face Rachel, catching the other woman's eyes. "She cares a lot about you."

Rachel's eyes softened and her mouth turned up slightly at the corners in the barest trace of a smile. "I know she does. She doesn't always express it in the most conventional ways, but she has always been there for me, and is fiercely loyal. I don't know what I would do without her." Rachel fidgeted with the clutch she held in her lap. "I have never actually been to one of these benefits without her."

"She told me," Quinn replied. "She also told me that I had better make sure you made it through unscathed or there would be hell to pay," Quinn teased, happy when the other woman laughed softly. "What is this event for tonight anyway, I don't think either of you ever mentioned it."

"Oh, that was short sighted of us. It's a benefit for the Theatre Arts Academy of New York. Or more specifically for their scholarship programs to assist kids that wouldn't be able to otherwise attend. They do a lot of outreach to at risk kids to try to give them something positive to focus on."

"Well that sounds like a worthy cause," Quinn answered.

Rachel laughed shortly, the sound conveying her derision. "It's really just an excuse for New York's theater elite to see and be seen, to play lip service to helping the 'less fortunate.' If any of them make a donation it will surely be a token, and then only out of obligation."

Quinn looked at Rachel knowingly. "Not you though."

Rachel shrugged. "Like you said, it's a worthwhile cause." Rachel gazed fixedly out the window, not really seeing the city passing by. "Theater was always there for me when I was a kid, it never let me down, and whatever I was feeling, I could always find a song that would help me express it when I couldn't find the words. If I can give that to another child….I'm just repaying an old debt."

Quinn acted on impulse and reached over to cover Rachel's hand with her own, giving it a firm squeeze. The brunette jerked her eyes away from her sightless staring and met Quinn's hazel gaze. "Well I think it's sweet, and even if the rest of them don't understand what a worthy cause they are supporting, the money still gets put to good use."

"It does. Thank you Quinn." Rachel turned to glance out the window once more and Quinn withdrew her hand. "We're here."

Quinn leaned forward and leaned in toward Rachel, trying to peer out her window. To her right, a few hundred yards ahead, Quinn could make out what must be the venue for the evening.

"There's a red carpet?" Quinn questioned, growing uneasy. She had figured this would basically just be a glorified cocktail party with drinks, _hors d'oeuvres,_ mingling, and awkward small talk leading up to pitches for donations. She had never stopped to consider there would be a red carpet, and photographers, Quinn swallowed, a lot of photographers. Quinn berated herself, the whole point was to be seen with Rachel, of course they would want to attend events to maximize exposure.

"Only a small one," Rachel answered absently. She turned her head and noticed Quinn's unease. "Are you okay?"

Quinn tore her eyes away from the red carpet and sat back, her eyes meeting Rachel's. "Fine," she answered. The brunette didn't look convinced so Quinn gave her best 'Don't worry, I've got this' smile. Rachel still didn't look convinced. Quinn sighed. "I'm fine really. I guess I just wasn't expecting it that's all, I have never had to do anything like this before."

It was Rachel's turn to reach over and place a comforting hand over one of Quinn's. "It's really not that big a deal. Like I said, this is just an excuse to see and be seen for most of these people, it will be quick and painless. I'm not famous, so they will not try to slow us down or ask us any questions. They will want us to process through as quickly as possible." Rachel's smile held a hint of self deprecation.

Quinn didn't know why but she didn't like the brunette being so dismissive of herself. "Well then I guess I better enjoy it while it lasts, because I am sure before long I am going to have to pry you off the red carpet," Quinn joked, bumping her shoulder into Rachel's playfully.

She was rewarded when Rachel's smile kicked up a notch. "Let's hope right?" Rachel glanced out the window again, noting that they were next in line. She turned back to Quinn, clasping her hand firmly. "You ready?"

Quinn took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. She was Quinn Fabray; she had survived the halls of McKinley, she had survived Russell and Judy, she had survived teen pregnancy and single motherhood, she could handle some upscale Broadway party. "Bring it on," she replied with a cocky grin and a quirk of an eyebrow. It was time to let high school Quinn out to play.

The door to the car was suddenly opened and John was once again reaching inside to assist Rachel in exiting. Once she was clear, she stood near the door and waited for Quinn to be helped out. Once they were both safely out of the car, Rachel once again reached for Quinn's hand. Quinn interlaced their fingers and allowed Rachel to tug her along.

Rachel's assessment had been correct. While the flashbulbs went off fast and furiously, they were not detained or slowed down by questions. The fact that they were invited meant they at least had money, so pictures were taken, but no one recognized Rachel as someone particularly noteworthy so they were allowed to move quickly along the short carpet. A fact for which Quinn was grateful; it had been a long time since she had worn the mask of unshakable confidence that epitomized her high school self, and she feared it was a bit rusty.

Once clear of the gauntlet Rachel guided Quinn off to the side, and clear of the entry way, so others would be able to enter unimpeded.

"See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" Rachel queried with a smile.

Quinn shrugged her shoulders, her eyes scanning the room around her, taking it all in. "I have definitely been through worse." Quinn was relieved to see that while she had overlooked the possibility of a red carpet, her other assumptions about the event seemed to be accurate. The room was a milling mass of people, small groupings forming here and there, but for the most part an ever shifting landscape. "So what is the plan?"

Rachel laughed. "You sound like Santana, she always approaches these gatherings like a military assault plan."

"I can't say that I blame her," Quinn muttered, continuing to eye her surroundings.

"There's not much to this really; we will circulate amongst the guests, spending just enough time with each for hellos some idle chatter, and then move on. The whole event is an opportunity to network."

"So you know all these people?"

Rachel tipped her head side to side. "Some. Most are passing acquaintances."

Quinn worried her bottom lip. "Should I know who these people are?" Quinn's survey of the room had revealed no one that she recognized. If she was going to be expected to interact intelligently with these people they were headed for disaster before they even started.

Rachel shook her head. "Don't worry about that. I will navigate the social interactions; your lack of musical theater knowledge shouldn't be a hindrance."

Quinn cocked an eyebrow. Right, how could she have forgotten her purpose? "Look pretty and keep my mouth shut. Got it." Quinn nodded in the affirmative and tried not to feel dismissed and useless. She wanted to be able to help Rachel, but the other woman was right, about the only thing she could add was a bit of decoration.

"Quinn that's not what I meant," Rachel exclaimed quickly. "I just don't want you to feel obligated to interact with them any more than absolutely necessary. They can be insufferable and cutting at the best of times."

"You want to do this why, again?" Quinn questioned curiously. Every time Rachel mentioned this event, or the people attached to it, she did so in the most unflattering of terms. If the people were as awful as Rachel and Santana were portraying them to be, Quinn simply didn't understand why the brunette was so determined to put herself through this. She had the money, she could do anything she wanted, and not have to endure this torture.

"I was born to be on that stage Quinn." She waved her hand around the room. "All of rest of this? It's just background. I want to be on the stage enough to put up with whatever it takes to get there."

Quinn smiled sadly. "I don't think I have ever wanted anything that much," she paused briefly, "well except for Libby, but that's not really the same thing."

Rachel squeezed her hand tightly, and Quinn realized that they were still holding hands; she hadn't even noticed. "You'll find it Quinn." Rachel smiled warmly and then turned her gaze back to the party that awaited them. "But until then…shall we?"

The next several hours were more or less a blur of faces and names that Quinn knew she could never hope to remember. It was an endless stream of phony people, air kisses, and backhanded compliments that had Quinn's nerves on edge. It was high school all over again, only now the stakes were much higher, and the players were seasoned pros. Everyone once in a while, before they were set to meet yet another person, Rachel would halt Quinn and whisper some tidbit or piece of gossip.

"April Rhodes. She had a few parts on Broadway about 15 years ago, but she never gained widespread notoriety. Rumor has it she was more in love with the bottle than the stage. She married some enfeebled old billionaire 3 years ago; very Anna Nicole."

"Mike Chang. Phenomenal dancer, not much of a voice. Definitely a niche performer but very in demand for what he does."

"Sam Evans. Latest Hollywood 'it' boy that decided he should legitimize his acting resume with some 'theatre' work. Voice is passable enough, but apparently he is not the brightest bulb in the marquee. Sweet and harmless, not a real player."

"Sue Sylvester, a cross between Julie Taymor and Benito Mussolini. Brilliant choreographer, she creates some of the most fantastic displays on stage, but she is not afraid to break a few dancers, literally, to achieve her goals. Ruthlessly ambitious and completely ego-maniacal. Everyone is equal parts desperate and terrified to work with her."

"Will Shuester. Where Sylvester is on the cutting edge, Shuester prefers to play it safe. There is not a revival or tribute show he hasn't done. Sylvester can't stand him, and rumors have swirled for years that she has made it her personal mission to sabotage any show he opens. Audiences seem to lap up his uninspired routines, but he is dragging down the standard for what musical theater should be. I worked with him once; I landed a small part if an off Broadway revival he was doing, what else, and I informed him that if he would only think outside the box the show could be so much more. He fired me, and has been out to sabotage my career ever since."

"Kurt Hummel. Costume designer. His designs are breathtaking and everyone is desperate to get him to design for them. He started out as a singer, but it never happened for him."

Through it all Quinn stayed dutifully by Rachel's side, plastic smile firmly in place, one hand placed possessively on the small of Rachel's back. Quinn's worries about having to speak intelligently about musical theater had been in vain; most of the people they talked with were more interested in themselves, and the few that had asked about Quinn only did so in a cursorily manner.

Quinn knew there were still a few groups that they had yet to mingle with, but she was exhausted and she needed a break. While she was accustomed to being on her feet all day long, she hadn't worn proper heels in years, and her feet were killing her. She nodded politely in departure as Rachel excused herself from yet another couple. Before Rachel could alight on the next target Quinn tugged her to a stop.

"Do you mind if I take five? I could really use the chance to freshen up."

Rachel was instantly contrite. "Oh Quinn of course I apologize, you should have said something earlier. I can tend to lose track of time and become very singularly focused when at these events." Rachel nodded her head in the direction of the restroom. "Why don't you go utilize the facilities and I will round up something to eat and drink for us."

Quinn took a moment to consider the offer. Santana had ordered her not to leave Rachel alone for any reason, but surely she hadn't meant literally every minute, and Quinn really was starving. "That would be great, thanks. I will be back in a flash."

Quinn was able to locate the restroom with no trouble and bumped into a woman she recognized from her and Rachel's earlier circuit. Tina Cohen Chang, no relation to Mike, and wife of Artie Abrams, a producer on Broadway; Quinn remembered the couple since they had been one of the few seemingly decent pairs at this event. Tina had seemed sweet, soft-spoken, if a bit out of place. Quinn shared that awkward smile that all people who enter the bathroom together share, but didn't say anything as the two women made their way to their respective stalls.

Quinn sagged against the stall wall in relief. She didn't really have to go to the bathroom, she had just wanted a moment of peace and quiet, and the constant glad handing had been absolutely draining, even if Rachel had done the majority of it. She would love to kick off her shoes, but there was little chance of that happening. She was relieved to see that the toilet had a lid, which she lowered before gratefully sinking down.

She couldn't have been in there for more than a minute when she heard the noise in the bathroom increase when the door was opened. She thought perhaps it was Tina leaving, but that notion was quickly dismissed when she made out the chatter of voices.

"These things are so boring, remind me again why we come?"

"Because everyone else does."

"What is this one even for? I can never keep the details straight."

"Poor kids or something."

"Whatever, like anyone cares."

"God did you _see_ what that train wreck April Rhodes was wearing? With all that money you would think she could hire a stylist. It really is an embarrassment; at least she stopped dragging her corpse of a husband to these events."

"Of course she did. It makes it much easier for her to sneak off to the coat closet with the chorus boy du jour."

"Speaking of, Jesse did you see the date your ex brought."

Quinn had been listening idly to the back and forth bitchy banter. She wasn't sure but it sounded like 3 or 4 women, but the name Jesse immediately set off alarm bells. She knew Rachel's ex was here, Rachel had pointed her out earlier, but they had steadfastly avoided coming into contact with the other woman. Quinn had to admit the woman was attractive enough, but there had been a falseness about her that Quinn could sense even from across the crowded room.

"Please," Quinn could practically hear the eye roll, "could she be any more obvious. She might as well have just left the price tag on her." Quinn narrowed her eyes in annoyance when she heard Jesse's friends laugh at her joke. Seriously, this was getting ridiculous, did everyone assume she was a prostitute? Did she give off a working girl vibe or something?

"Jesse you're so bad."

"Am I wrong? There is no way Rachel managed to land that blonde without the aid of her checkbook." Quinn supposed that she should take that as a compliment, but she was more focused on how pissed off she was on Rachel's behalf. She may not know all the details of Rachel and Jesse's relationship, but she had gotten to know Rachel well enough over the last month to know the petite brunette didn't deserve this amount of bitchy derision.

She had half a mind to storm out of the stall and confront Jesse, but she wasn't really sure if Rachel would appreciate that, and she didn't want to cause problems for her. Additionally it may prove useful to find out just what Jesse was saying about the pint sized diva. Know your enemy. So even though she was silently fuming, she remained in place.

"I don't even know why she keeps bothering coming to these events," Jesse continued. "One of these days she is just going to have to accept the fact that she doesn't have what it takes to make it on Broadway. The sooner she realizes her daddies can't buy her everything the better off she'll be. Enough about Rachel though, the topic is boring me."

"How did your talk with Abrams go? Weren't you going to see if he had any openings in his next show?"

Quinn heard a disgusted sigh. "It didn't, I tried a few times to track him down, but that st-st-stuttering wife of his kept interrupting. Honestly I know he's in a wheelchair, and that must limit his options somewhat, but he seriously can't do any better than _that?"_

Quinn had heard enough. She had been a part of enough of these types of discussions in the past to know that it was only going to get worse. She hadn't confronted them when they were talking about her, she could take it, and she didn't really care what these stuck up bitches thought of her anyway. It had been harder when they started talking about Rachel, but she didn't think it was her place to start something and possibly cause problems for the brunette. But Quinn couldn't sit idly by while they ripped into Tina, who she knew was still in the bathroom, likely still hiding in her own stall.

The meeting Quinn had with the woman hadn't lasted long, but she had been very gracious, and yes, had a bit of a stutter. She and Artie had been sweet together, and Quinn wasn't willing to let these jackals tear into her. She had done this a lot in high school and she had seen the fallout first hand.

Quinn stood from the toilet seat, flushed, and with a bang, swung the stall wide. She got a grim sort of satisfaction when she saw the three women in front of the mirror freeze as they were alerted to her presence. She recognized Jesse from Rachel pointing her out earlier, but her two companions, one blonde, the other a redhead, were strangers to her.

She made sure to maintain eye contact with Jesse the entire time, daring the other woman to back down. She had dealt with her fair share of mean girls, and while rusty, the skills were coming back to her faster than was entirely comfortable. Jesse had more steel in her spine than Quinn initially gave her credit for, and the curly haired brunette didn't look away.

Eye contact was finally broken when Quinn reached the sink and started to methodically wash her hands, still saying nothing. To speak first would be to flinch, and Quinn wasn't going to show this woman an iota of vulnerability.

"Well, well, well, speak of the devil," Jesse finally broke the tension filled silence and Quinn smirked in satisfaction.

Finished washing her hands Quinn turned off the water and reached for a paper towel. She turned slightly to face Jesse. "Oh were you talking to me?" Quinn feigned confusion, placing one hand questioningly on her chest.

Jesse smirked. "I think you know I was talking to you. Do you make it a habit to troll bathroom stalls?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, I was simply using the facilities."

Jesse sneered. "Oh I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, or are you going to pretend you didn't overhear our entire conversation." Quinn had to give the other woman credit, she wasn't going to back down. If Quinn didn't find her so distasteful she would almost admire her for her forthrightness. Finished drying her hands, she threw the used towel into the waste bin. "Oh I heard you." Quinn said with a cold smile. "Didn't anyone ever warn you to check the stalls first? You never know who could be listening."

"If you are looking for a payoff you are barking up the wrong tree. I hardly think anyone is going to believe some escort."

Quinn's eyes grew icy and her mouth flattened. She was really and truly sick of people calling her a hooker. "Well it's a good thing I'm not an escort then isn't it?" Jesse eyed her up and down critically, her expression clearly skeptical. Quinn smiled coldly at the appraisal; she was really going to enjoy this next part. "I'm her wife." The words sounded strange to her ears, even after Rachel had introduced her that way all night. Quinn's smirk widened when she saw Jesse's shocked eyes meet hers. "Didn't your little henchmen ferret out that little bit of information?"

Jesse shook off her surprise and collected herself, shooting a quick look of annoyance at her friends. "No, though that is hardly surprising; it's not like I spend my days wondering who Rachel Berry is dating." Jesse tapped her finger to her lips, expression thoughtful. "You certainly work fast, I'll give you that. If you think you are going to get a big payoff though you are sadly mistaken, Santana calls all the shots." There was no mistaking the bitterness in Jesse's voice, and Quinn felt a surge of anger that Rachel had wasted so much time with such an obvious user.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not after her money then isn't it?"

Jesse rolled her eyes. "Oh what, you are with her for love? Don't try to play a player sweetie. I recognize your type."

Quinn's eyes grew flinty. She wanted to lash out, and refute the statement, but part of her had to acknowledge the other woman's assessment. She was using Rachel, if not for money, than to gain what she wanted, even if it was with the other woman's consent and cooperation. "Believe what you want, I hardly need the approval of someone that has to sleep her way into a part. You two make a lovely couple by the way; tell me do people often mistake him for your grandfather?" Rachel had pointed out Jesse and the director that she was rumored to have slept with to get the part; Quinn had insisted that no part was worth that much sacrifice. Rachel had laughingly agreed.

Jesse's two friends, who had remained silent to this point tittered in amusement and Jesse spun on them, fist clenched, and face red with anger. They quickly quieted when confronted with their ring leader's death glare. Jesse spun back to confront Quinn, eyes still brimming with rage.

"Whatever," she spat. "At least I actually have a role, which is more than I can say for that talentless, uptight, ice princess you are 'married' to." Quinn simply quirked her eyebrow in amusement, her face a mask of condescension, when Jesse bracketed the word in actual air quotes. Her failure to rise to the bait seemed to serve to only piss Jesse off more and she spun to face her two companions. "Let's go, I am not going to stand here and be insulted by this opportunistic gold digger." Jesse stormed out of the bathroom in an impressive flurry, her two lackeys trailing behind.

Quinn let out a breath and sagged slightly in relief once the door swung shut behind them. The entire confrontation had probably only lasted a few minutes, but it had taxed Quinn's already low reserves. She hadn't had an exchange like that in quite a long time, and she didn't miss it one bit.

Quinn padded softly over to the only closed stall in the bathroom and tapped gently. "You can come out now, the wicked witch and her flying monkeys have finally left." Quinn heard a soft rustle of fabric from within the stall and stepped back so that Tina would have some room to exit.

The door swung open and she was met briefly with the embarrassed brown eyes of the Asian woman, before Tina quickly dropped her gaze. "Th-thanks," Tina stuttered out, clearly still flustered by the ordeal.

Quinn waved her hand dismissively, and rolled her eyes. "It was my pleasure, trust me." Seeing that the other woman was still uncomfortable Quinn joked, "I'm sure they were just saying what other people were thinking; I get mistaken for a hired escort with shocking regularity, I really need to figure out why that is."

Tina shook her head. "Jesse is just a b-bitch. You l-look fa-fabulous, and you and Rachel s-seem really sweet."

Quinn smiled warmly. "Thank you," she leaned in conspiratorially, "I was actually really nervous about tonight. Santana and Rachel tried to warn me about how people were going to be, I think they downplayed it a bit so as not to scare me off."

Tina let out a genuine laugh, and Quinn saw some of the tension ease from her shoulders. "T-tell me about it, I hate coming to these things-s, but I don't feel right leaving Artie to suffer alone."

"The things we do for love," Quinn joked. She glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that more time than she thought had passed. "Well I should go track down Rachel before she assumes I did a runner on her."

"Ye-yeah I should go find Artie. Thanks again Quinn." The Asian woman sent her one final shy smile before walking over to the sink to wash her hands. Quinn nodded in farewell and pushed the door open with some reluctance, not particularly eager to rejoin the fray.

She scanned the room quickly, hoping to spot Rachel right away. She didn't see the small brunette on the first scan, but she did catch the heated force ten death glare of Jesse from across the room. Quinn returned the look with an insolent smirk, and continued to look for Rachel. Finally spotting the other woman standing off to the side by one of the tall bar tables that lined the perimeter of the room Quinn made her away towards the brunette.

She could feel Jesse's eyes boring into her back on her entire trek across the room. She was coming upon Rachel from behind, so the brunette did not see her approach. Instead of just announcing her presence verbally she reached out and laid a hand on the small of Rachel's back, before sliding it around waist, encircling the woman in a loose embrace from behind. Rachel jumped at the initial touch, clearly startled, and swung her gaze to meet Quinn's questioningly.

"We have a bit of an audience," Quinn supplied, answering the silent question. Sensing that Rachel was about to turn her head to look Quinn leaned in and quickly planted a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "Don't look, they'll know we are talking about them."

Rachel gazed into Quinn's hazel eyes. "And who is them exactly?"

Quinn was torn. She didn't really want to tell Rachel all that had gone in the bathroom. While she had initially remained hidden in part to find out what gossip Jesse was spreading, she didn't want to hurt the brunette's feelings by actually telling her the hateful things her ex had said. Quinn figured that Santana would be a much better recipient of the news. But she also couldn't keep Rachel completely in the dark.

"I ran into your ex in the bathroom," Quinn answered quietly.

Rachel closed her eyes and breathed out, not quite a sigh, but close. "I wondered what was taking you so long. Was she awful?"

Quinn waggled her head. "I've had more pleasant encounters, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

"What did she say?" Rachel persisted.

Quinn reached over and snagged one of the glasses of champagne Rachel had gotten for them, and took a sip. "Nothing worth repeating," Quinn insisted. Seeing Rachel's probing look Quinn let out a small sigh. "Really Rachel, she was just expressing her surprise over how quickly we got together." Quinn saw Rachel's brows crease in concern. "So I figured I would improvise a bit and put on a little bit of a show for her." Quinn was still well within Rachel's personal space, their faces only inches apart, so to any outside observer they would look like a couple engaged in an intimate discussion. Quinn took another sip of her champagne, backing away only slightly. "Now, stop worrying about Jesse. Who else do we need to schmooze this evening?"

Rachel looked like she might pursue the issue, but instead decided to let it drop. "Without Santana's incessant whining, and pleas to leave, we managed to make the rounds in record time. If you want I think we can call it a night."

Quinn smiled, the first genuine one of the evening. "Seriously?" When Rachel only nodded in response Quinn impulsively leaned in and kissed her again on the cheek. "Thank you, thank you." She dropped her forehead onto Rachel's shoulder. "I am so exhausted, the thought of being able to go home and go to bed is bliss." Realizing that she was practically draping herself over Rachel Quinn quickly straightened up, but still mindful that Jesse may be watching, kept her arm wrapped around Rachel's back.

Rachel gently took the champagne glass from Quinn's hand and set it back on the table. Grasping the blonde's hand and intertwining their fingers she tugged her forward. "C'mon, you have gone above and beyond tonight, let's get you home." Quinn followed eagerly behind, realizing that hearing Rachel refer to the apartment as home felt….right, somehow.

Anxious as she was to leave she made sure to take the time send a smug and taunting smile over her shoulder, catching Jesse's gaze. She was well aware that to the outside observer, the interaction they just shared looked like two newlyweds eager to get home and spend some time alone. The show was mostly for Jesse's benefit, but Quinn figured it would also help to dispel the doubts of anyone else that may have suspicions about their relationship.


	11. Ch 11: The Mus-Education of Libby Fabray

AN: So it was pointed out to me on the last chapter that I managed to give Libby two different names; Elizabeth Rebecca Fabray, and Elizabeth Lucinda Fabray – for the record the "correct" name is Elizabeth Lucinda. Yet another reason one shouldn't take off years between updates, but honestly I'm sure I will make other continuity errors so if you find them, let me know and I will try to go back at some point and edit them.

For all the anon/un-signed reviewers that I can't reply back to directly via PM– your time to read and review is much appreciated!

Oh and I think I have this all outlined to be about 22 chapters, if it doesn't change, which knowing me it probably will, but if not – we're half way there.

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Mus-Education of Libby Fabray**

Rachel entered the kitchen, back from her run, freshly showered, and ready to face the day. She walked over to the fridge and opened the door contemplating the contents. Deciding that a fruit smoothie would hit the spot, Rachel grabbed the ingredients she would need and placed them on the counter. She may not be the best cook, but this was more assembly and mixing than cooking.

Grabbing her blender from one of the cabinets she placed it on the counter. Turning to retrieve the ingredients from the counter, she was surprised to see Libby standing uncertainly in the doorway, the ever present Mr. Tubs clutched in one hand, the other rubbing tiredly at her eyes.

For the second time in as many days, Rachel found herself alone with the child. "Good morning Libby, I hope you slept well," Rachel greeted, placing the fruit, vegetables, and yogurt for her smoothie back on the counter.

The child blinked at Rachel and shuffled into the room. "I hungry," she stated groggily.

Rachel was at a loss. She had never attempted to feed Libby, Quinn was always there to take care of it, and she wasn't sure that Libby would appreciate what Rachel had planned to prepare for herself.

"Where's your Mommy?" Rachel questioned. It was very unusual for Quinn not to be awake and in the kitchen preparing Libby's breakfast by the time Rachel returned from her run; a fact that she hadn't really made note of until right now.

A frown marred Libby's features. "Her door closed. I knocked, but she no come, and I couldn't open. I hungry."

Rachel looked at the girl nonplussed; it appeared that whatever had been keeping Libby from interacting with Rachel had been toppled yesterday with their musical bonding session, and the toddler was now comfortable enough to demand food.

Rachel figured she had two options; go wake Quinn, or try to feed Libby. She was loathe to go rouse the blonde, she had seen first-hand how tired Quinn had been last night. By the end of the evening she had looked like she was running on sheer determination. The young mother almost never got a chance to sleep in, and if Rachel could give her that she wanted to, even if it meant having to tackle breakfast for the toddler.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

Libby walked closer and Rachel lost sight of her when the island blocked her view. Libby reappeared seconds later when she rounded the island. "Pancakes."

Rachel bit her lip. There was no way she was capable of producing pancakes. Toast sure, cereal, no problem, but not pancakes. "How about some cereal?"

Libby shook her head. "Pancakes."

"I was just about to make myself a delicious smoothie, if you would like I can make you one as well."

"Pancakes," Libby insisted.

Rachel realized she had backed herself into a corner, and also was coming to understand that she may have met her match in the stubbornness department. "I would love to be able to make you and myself for that matter, some pancakes. Unfortunately my skills in the kitchen are somewhat sub-par, and they are beyond my currently culinary ability."

Seeing that the small child was really not following, and probably just wanted her pancakes, Rachel stopped talking and considered. "How about we start off with some fruit, and then maybe your Mom will be up and we can get her to make us some pancakes?" Rachel figured that stalling for time was her only viable option; she just had to hope that Quinn actually woke up soon.

Instead of waiting for a reply, Rachel immediately started preparing the fruit she had originally gotten out for her smoothie. Reaching into a drawer, she grabbed a knife and started slicing the produce into small, bite sized pieces. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced down to see Libby standing by her side, one arm wrapped firmly around Mr. Tubs neck.

"Did you have fun with Brittany and Santana last night?" To say that Rachel had been surprised to still see Santana at her apartment when she and Quinn returned home was an understatement. Rachel knew that Santana was interested in Brittany, her accompanying them to the zoo a week ago had only underscored that fact, but she had never anticipated that she was serious enough to actually spend a night babysitting in an attempt to woo the other woman. That was the only explanation that Rachel could come up with for Santana's actions. Santana was even less of a kid person than Rachel was, and for Rachel it was mostly a lack of familiarity, not an active dislike.

Libby nodded. "We played games. Santa talk funny." Rachel pursed her lips, deciding not to correct the name slip, and made a mental note to check in with the Latina. She was sure that Brittany would keep her in check, but one could never really be sure what would come out of Santana's mouth.

"Are you excited to spend the day with your Mom?" Rachel asked and looked briefly away from her task to the toddler. Libby nodded vigorously and Rachel smiled. "Have you given any thought to what you two are going to do?" Libby's brow creased in concentration before she shook her head. "Well I am sure you will find something fun to do, I know your Mom is looking forward to spending the day with you."

The food preparation complete, Rachel retrieved a small bowl and scooped some fruit in for Libby. "Alright how about we get you situated in the dining room?"

Libby nodded and led the way, Rachel trailing behind. Once Rachel had Libby situated in her booster seat, she went back into the kitchen to mix herself a smoothie with the remaining fruit. She kept one eye on the toddler as she tossed the ingredients into the blender.

She had just hit the start button on the blender when Quinn rushed into the room looking absolutely frantic. Rachel quickly hit the stop button, killing the loud noise.

"Have you seen Libby? I went into her room, but she wasn't in there, and she wasn't in the living room," Quinn questioned hurriedly, eyes still darting around the room.

"Quinn calm down, Libby is fine, she's in the dining room eating some fruit," Rachel reassured the tousled blonde. Quinn quickly walked across the kitchen and poked her head around the corner, gaining a line of sight to the dining table. Her shoulders slumped in relief when she caught sight of her daughter.

Quinn turned to face Rachel. "Sorry, when I went into her room and she wasn't there I just panicked. I am still not entirely used to her being in a separate room."

Rachel smiled reassuringly. "It's quite all right. She woke up and went to your door, apparently it was closed, you didn't respond to her knock, and she wasn't able to open it. She must have heard me moving about in the kitchen and came to investigate." Rachel started the blender once again, quickly pureeing the contents to a smooth consistency. Twisting the container off the base she poured the contents into a glass and took a sip.

"Oh by the way, she wants pancakes for breakfast. I was able to distract her with some fruit, but she was quite insistent. I would have made them, but they are a bit beyond my scope, and I was hoping you would wake up before she finished."

Quinn scrubbed a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. I probably wasn't paying attention last night and latched the door shut. I have been so tired lately that I must have just slept right through her knocking."

"Quinn you don't have to apologize, Libby is fine. I was glad to help out, and give you the opportunity for some extra much needed sleep. You really looked like you could use it last night." When Quinn raised her eyebrow Rachel flushed, realizing how that must have sounded. "I didn't mean it that way. You looked incredible last night, it was just by the end of the evening it was clear you were barely hanging on."

Quinn smiled and took a seat at the island. "It's okay, I know what you meant." Quinn canted her head to the side, a perplexed look crossing her features. "I'm actually a little surprised that Libby came and asked you for breakfast. The last I knew the two of you weren't really on speaking terms."

"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed. "I meant to tell you about that last night, but we never really had a lull that allowed for it."

Quinn opened her mouth to reply, but before she could Libby came dashing into the room and wrapped her arms around her mother's legs. "Up," Libby requested, trying to scramble into Quinn's lap. Quinn reached down and hoisted the girl up and turned her around so she was facing forward on her lap.

"You were saying," Quinn prodded.

"When I was doing some vocal exercises yesterday Libby found her way into my studio."

"We sing ding dong, dead witch," Libby chimed in happily, bouncing excitedly on Quinn's lap.

"Libby what did I tell you about bothering Rachel and staying out of her space?" Quinn scolded, turning Libby in her lap so she was facing her. Quinn turned back to address Rachel. "I'm really sorry about that, I will talk to her again to make sure she doesn't bother you."

"Was fun," Libby insisted mutinously, a scowl firmly in place. "We sing ding dong again!" The little girl all but demanded.

"Libby, you are not to go into Rachel's studio again. Is that understood?"

"It was really my fault," Rachel quickly interjected, seeing the storm clouds forming in Libby's eyes. "I forgot to pull the door all the way shut and she heard me practicing while Brittany was in the kitchen making lunch." Rachel smiled and poked Libby gently in the stomach, causing the frowning toddler to let out a surprised giggle and grin. "Besides this little munchkin was no bother. I always appreciate a cheering audience."

"Munchkin land!" Libby exclaimed happily, clapping her hands.

Quinn didn't look entirely convinced. "Still I don't want her to get in the habit of bothering you, she needs to learn."

Rachel smiled reassuringly at Quinn. "It really is fine, the door has a lock, so if it becomes a problem I can always lock the door but I would be more than happy to sing a duet with Miss. Libby from time to time." Rachel looked at Quinn sternly. "In fact that reminds me of something else I was meaning to bring up with you."

Quinn gazed back the brunette, her expression worried. "What's that?"

"When I was talking with Libby yesterday I discovered a shocking lack of exposure to even the most _classic_ pieces of the American movie musical."

Quinn looked taken aback by the comment, clearly having anticipated a more serious issue. Shrugging her shoulders slightly she said, "I have just tried to limit the amount of TV she watches. There have been studies that too much screen time isn't good for small kids." Quinn smiled sadly. "I knew she was already going to be at a disadvantage with an unwed teen mother, I didn't want to stack the deck against her any more than I already had."

Rachel was torn. "Quinn you have done a fine job with Libby; I'm sure no one would doubt your love and commitment to her." Quinn smiled her gratitude at the kind words. "However…" Quinn's smile started to droop, "…the Wizard of Oz is not simply TV, it is an absolute masterpiece of American cinema. I commend you for wanting to limit Libby's exposure to the majority of the drivel that pollutes our airwaves today, but to not have seen the Wizard of Oz is simply unforgivable Quinn. Unforgivable."

Quinn smirked at the other woman's impassioned response. "You really feel that strongly about this?"

"I do," Rachel nodded firmly. "Further I discovered that the Wizard of Oz is not the only gap in her musical education. She has seen _none_ of the Disney musicals." Rachel shook her head sadly. "It simply must be remedied Quinn."

"I want to watch munchkin movie," Libby insisted, deciding to join in the fray.

Quinn looked at her daughter and smiled. "You want to watch the Wizard of Oz?"

Libby nodded. "Wanna watch munchkin movie."

"Well it is your day to decide, so I guess we can go find a copy this afternoon."

Rachel scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous Quinn." Quinn looked at Rachel questioningly. "There is no need for you to rent the movie. I own it; several copies in fact."

Quinn smiled, relieved. She hadn't really been relishing the idea of searching the city for a copy of the Wizard of Oz. "Thanks, again." Quinn turned to Libby. "Rachel said you wanted pancakes for breakfast?" Libby bobbed her head up and down. "Well let's get you fed then." Quinn looked to Rachel. "Did you want some?"

Rachel was tempted, Quinn's pancakes were delicious, but she had already eaten and she didn't want to encroach on Quinn's time with her daughter. Besides, she had slacked off terribly yesterday in regards to her practicing. "Tempting, but I have some vocal exercises to run. All my movies are in the living room, but please don't hesitate to come and get me if you run into any issues with the setup."

Quinn nodded her head. "I'm sure it will be fine. I want to try to wear her out a little bit anyway before watching the movie, so we probably won't get around to it until this afternoon."

* * *

With breakfast finished, Quinn ushered Libby off to go play with her toys while she cleaned up. Cleaning took only a few moments, she tried to tidy up as she went along, and she debated about trying to sneak off for a quick shower. She usually tried to shower before Libby woke up, since the small girl was a bundle of energy that needed almost constant supervision, but her exhaustion had been so complete that she had overslept.

The previous night she had barely had the energy to walk in, thank Brittany, and with no small amount of surprise Santana, for watching Libby before collapsing into bed. She needed to have a conversation with Brittany; her concerns regarding the Latina's motives were far from resolved. She may even have to ask Rachel what she thought her friend's angle might be.

Thinking of the brunette singer made Quinn discard the idea of a shower, no matter how brief; even though Rachel had said it was fine, Quinn worried about Libby being a hassle and wearing out their welcome. So far Rachel seemed to be adjusting quite well to their intrusion into her life, and Quinn wanted to keep it that way.

She turned to go exit the kitchen determined to round up Libby and try to get the girl washed, dressed, and ready to face the day.

"Where's Rachel?" Santana demanded in irritation, a large coffee clutched in one hand.

"Jesus Christ! Don't you knock?" Quinn exclaimed, startled at the sudden and unexpected presence of Santana.

"I have a key, why would I knock?"

Quinn huffed. "Maybe because it's the polite thing to do when entering someone else's home?" Quinn posited rhetorically.

"So this is home now?" Santana challenged.

Quinn flushed in irritation. "That's not what I meant." However Quinn couldn't help but remember that just last night she had thought of Rachel's apartment as home. "I just meant that it is usually expected that you knock when entering someone else's apartment."

Santana shrugged. "Rachel has never cared. Where is she anyway? I tried calling her but she didn't pick up the phone."

"So you just decided to head over here? What if she was out?"

Santana laughed. "Please, that girl is a slave to her routine."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "She's in her studio practicing."

Santana frowned. "She doesn't usually practice on Sunday's; she likes to rest her voice."

Quinn couldn't help the smug smirk. "Maybe you don't know her quite as well as you thought." Quinn wasn't entirely sure why she felt the need to antagonize the Latina, but something about the other woman just brought out the sarcastic bitch in her. Also Santana's presumptive possessiveness regarding Rachel grated on Quinn's nerves for some reason.

Santana narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "I know her better than you do blondie." Anything else that Santana may have wanted to say was cut off when Libby ran into the room.

"Santa, Santa!" Libby cried happily.

"Hey Elf," Santana greeted the girl.

"I not a elf," Libby giggled.

"Hey if you insist on calling me Santa, then I say you are Elf," Santana insisted.

"You silly," Libby declared.

"I have been called much worse, believe me. Hey would you mind going to get Rachel for me?" Santana asked.

"Okay," Libby cried excitingly and dashed out of the room.

Quinn turned to glare at Santana; knowing trying to recall Libby was pointless, the girl was already out of the room and down the hall. "I am trying to teach her not to just go barging in to Rachel's studio. It is going to be hard to learn that it is off limits if you tell her to go in there and retrieve Rachel."

Santana took a healthy swallow of her coffee. "Rachel's a big girl, I'm sure she will figure out how to keep the midget out if it becomes a problem." Santana eyed the blonde lazily. "You worry almost as much as Rachel does."

Quinn's response was cut off by the arrival of Libby and Rachel entering the kitchen. Libby dragged Rachel by the hand over to the Latina. "I bring her Santa."

Santana reached down and patted the girl on the head as you would a dog. "Good girl."

Rachel looked at her friend in amusement. "Santa? I confess I don't really see the resemblance to a jolly fat man that brings others joy. Now perhaps if we were to rearrange the last three letters…."

Santana glared at her friend. "Keep it up shorty, I'm sure if I try hard enough I can think of some of the less….flattering names they used for you in high school," Santana threatened good naturedly.

Rachel swallowed nervously and cut her gaze briefly to Quinn before returning it to her friend. "I don't think that will be necessary." Rachel wrinkled her brow. "What brings you by this early on a Sunday morning?"

Santana smiled, the look slightly predatory. "Did you girls forget to tell me anything before I left last night?"

Rachel looked at her friend in confusion while Quinn swallowed nervously. Quinn hadn't had a chance to tell Santana what had gone down in the bathroom last night with Jesse. She still wasn't sure how to broach the subject with Rachel, or just how much to tell the other woman. Knowing that Santana had a better gauge on Rachel she had wanted to run it past the Latina first.

"No. It was just a routine, boring networking event. Nothing stands out," Rachel replied, clearly perplexed.

"What about you Quinn? Anything noteworthy happen?" Santana asked sweetly.

"Santana, Quinn was with me all night, if something had happened I would have known about it. The only time we were separated was when she went to the bathroom." Rachel paused and turned to Quinn. "Did something happen in the bathroom? I know you said you ran into Jesse, but you also said nothing happened."

Quinn looked back and forth between Rachel and Santana. "Well…that may not have been entirely accurate." Quinn looked down at Libby, who had been following the conversation silently thus far. "Libby honey why don't you go into the living room and play with your toys, Mommy needs to have a talk with Rachel and Santana."

Libby crossed her arms and pouted. "Wanna stay."

"Do you also want to watch the Wizard of Oz later?" Libby nodded slowly, eyeing her mother suspiciously. "Then I suggest you do as I ask. This will only take a little while; when I'm done we can play or maybe go to the park." Libby looked torn, but ultimately decided that standing around listening to adults talk wasn't nearly as interesting as playing with her toys and left without further complaint.

Santana gave Quinn a sympathetic look. "Is Rachel making you guys watch?"

"I am not making them Santana," Rachel interrupted. "Libby informed me yesterday that she had never seen the film and I simply offered to rectify the situation and fill in the glaring gap in her musical development and education."

Santana held up her hands. "Please, I don't need the Wizard of Oz lecture…again." Santana looked at Quinn. "I will warn you know though, she will mouth just about every line of dialogue, and sing every song, so….well actually it will be a lot like watching a movie with a three-year-old I imagine, so you should be good."

"I'm not that bad!" Rachel insisted defensively.

"You really are, but that's not the point. Stop sidetracking the conversation. This is about Quinn and Jesse and what happened in that bathroom."

"I wasn't the one that brought up the Wizard of Oz," Rachel insisted. "If you recall that was you…"

"Shhhh, not the point right now." Santana redirected her attention to the blonde. "Quinn, would you like to share?"

Quinn sighed and darted a nervous glance toward Rachel, not sure how the diminutive brunette was going to take this news. "Well like I told you last night, I ran into Jesse and she indicated that she found the speed of our getting together rather surprising." Rachel nodded, she knew all this. "What I may have left out was that she implied that you may have paid for my services as you would otherwise be unable to attain someone like me any other way."

Rachel flushed in embarrassment and dropped her eyes. Quinn instinctively reached out and laid a comforting hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Which is ridiculous, she was just being a catty bitch."

"And that was it?" Santana prodded, arms folded across her chest.

Quinn eyed the other woman suspiciously. From her tone Santana clearly knew that was not in fact, it. "No. After they made the comments about Rachel they started in on Tina Cohen Chang."

"Artie Abram's wife?" Santana questioned.

Quinn nodded before continuing, "I wasn't going to let them sit there and trash Tina, so I left the stall I was in and made my presence known. I figured they would redirect their attention."

Santana held up a finger. "So let me get this straight. They trash Rachel, you hide in the bathroom stall, they start picking on Tina and you rush in on your white horse to save the day."

Quinn looked at Santana flatly. "First of all I didn't hide in the stall, I just wasn't sure how you wanted me to handle Jesse, and we never really talked about it. Second of all I had met Tina earlier, she seemed sweet, and she was in the bathroom too."

Santana frowned. "They left that part out."

It was Quinn's turn to frown. "Left it out of where? In fact, how do you even know about this, because you clearly knew about last night before you even arrived here this morning."

"Behind the Curtain," Santana replied simply.

Quinn looked at her blankly. "Is this another Wizard of Oz reference?"

It was Rachel who answered. "Possibly; but what she means is the gossip blog about all the major and minor players of Broadway."

Santana nodded and smiled. "Exactly, and Quinn's little cat fight in the bathroom landed you on the front page; good job. Not quite the way I envisioned you guys getting noticed, but what's the old adage? There's no such thing as bad publicity."

"So this is good? I didn't screw up last night?" Quinn asked, still uncertain.

Santana nodded with a smirk. "This is very good. You two got noticed, which was the plan, just stick to it, act sickeningly sweet in public, and this should be in the bag."

* * *

Quinn rushed around the kitchen in a near panic. "Rachel," she yelled since the brunette was in the other room with Libby. "What time did you say they were getting here?" Not able to put it off any longer the pair had finally scheduled a dinner with Rachel's dads. Quinn, in what she was now convinced was a moment of temporary insanity, had insisted on cooking dinner for the foursome.

It was only after remembering that Leroy was a bit of an amateur chef himself, and that the Berrys were probably well acquainted with the city's fine dining establishments, that Quinn realized that she may be in over her head. She knew that she was a passable cook, but she had serious doubts if she was up to their usual standards.

"They'll be here at 7 PM," Rachel answered, walking in to the kitchen. She smiled to herself when she saw the harried state the blonde was in; the blonde usually held herself with poise and it was cute to see her looking so ruffled.

Quinn startled at the sudden arrival in the kitchen her eyes meeting Rachel's amused ones. "I just don't want to mess this up," Quinn insisted.

Rachel had offered to have the evening catered, or for them to go out to a restaurant, but Quinn had vetoed both options. There was no way she wanted to drag Libby to a fine dining establishment, and she could hardly see the Berrys sitting down for dinner at McDonalds or some other equally child friendly place. She wasn't sure if it was pride, or just wanting to feel like she was pulling her own weight, but it seemed that cooking a meal for everyone was the least that she could do considering how much time and effort they were expending on her and Libby's behalf. Quinn was now debating the wisdom of that decision.

"I'm sure you will do great. Every time you have cooked for Libby and me it has been wonderful. What are we having anyway?" In addition to cooking the meal Quinn had insisted on buying all the ingredients as well. It had cut into her savings, but much like cooking the meal, she felt it was the least she could do considering how much money Rachel had spent thus far.

"I wanted to keep it fairly simple since it will need to cook while Libby is meeting your dads. So we are going to start with dinner rolls and Caesar salad with homemade dressing; the main course is going to be bacon wrapped beef tenderloins, topped with some asparagus spears and dressed with a lemon herb butter. Dessert is going to be individual chocolate lava cakes topped with fresh raspberries."

Seeing the blank look on Rachel's face Quinn started to panic again. "Is that not okay? I mean I know it's nothing fancy but I thought it was adequate." Suddenly an awful thought struck Quinn and she cursed herself for not running the menu by Rachel for approval first. "Oh god I didn't even think," Quinn said, stricken. "Does your dad even eat bacon?"

Rachel shook off her stupor. "Quinn that menu sounds incredible. I was struck temporarily mute because I can't believe that you considered all this "simple" that's all. And bacon is fine, we have never kept kosher."

Quinn breathed out in relief. "You scared me; and really the menu is quite simple. I didn't want to tackle something too involved because I figured our attention would be split. Most of the dishes have been prepped so all I need to do is throw them in the oven at the right times. The medallions require a bit more attention since they need to be pan seared, before finishing under the broiler."

Rachel laughed and shook her head. "Well you totally lost me, but I am sure Daddy will be able to follow whatever it is you just said." Rachel looked around the totally spotless kitchen. "Is there anything I can help with in here?"

Quinn shook her head. "If you wouldn't mind keeping Libby company while I cook her dinner that would be great." Quinn wanted to get Libby fed and bathed before the Berry men arrived. She figured they could spend an hour or so socializing and then after she put Libby to bed the adults could sit down and have dinner and discuss Libby's case in more detail.

"I can do that," Rachel assured the blonde. "I think Libby mentioned something about wanting to play Yellow Brick Road." Quinn rolled her eyes at the revelation; to say that Libby had been obsessed since viewing the movie would be an understatement. Luckily Rachel seemed to have a boundless love for the film and was always happy to humor the child.

"Just don't let her talk you into putting the movie in; I will never be able to tear her away for dinner."

"Understood," Rachel said with a grin as she departed the kitchen.

* * *

When Rachel heard the knock on the door she went to go let her fathers in. Opening the door, she was greeted by a smiling Hiram, and a slightly less enthused Leroy.

"Dad, Daddy, so glad you could make it," Rachel greeted warmly, hugging each briefly as they entered the apartment.

"Are you sure? We were starting to wonder if you were avoiding us," Leroy quipped.

Rachel rolled her eyes as she led them into the apartment. "Don't be silly Daddy, Quinn and I have just been busy, and working to get Libby settled. We weren't avoiding you." Which wasn't entirely a lie; Rachel hadn't been avoiding her fathers, but she also hadn't been bending over backwards to fit this dinner into her schedule either.

The more time she and Quinn spent around her parents, especially the ever observant Leroy, Rachel worried that they would see through the charade they were constructing. She had determined that limiting their time together would be the best course of action, but she should have known that her fathers would never actually go for that.

"If you say so," Leroy responded.

"Don't pay any attention to your father sweetie, you know how he is," Hiram insisted. "So where is the guest of honor?"

Rachel mock pouted at her father. "Are you throwing me over that quickly? I remember when I was the reason that you would come over to visit."

Hiram smiled fondly at his daughter, well used to her theatrics. "You know that would never happen, but I have to confess the idea of our first grandchild is extremely exciting. Even though he won't admit it I know Leroy is just as excited and can't wait to start spoiling her."

Rachel swallowed uneasily. She supposed she should have realized her fathers would embrace Quinn and Libby wholeheartedly; it was just how they were, family always came first. They believed that Rachel had picked Quinn, so even with Leroy's initial suspicion they would honor that choice and bring the two new additions into the fold; which included being grandfathers to Libby.

Rachel smiled a bit nervously. "Well I certainly appreciate your enthusiastic acceptance of Libby into our family dynamic, but I must also insist on a certain amount of reserve." A puzzled look settled on the Berry men's faces. "Libby is still adjusting to all of the recent upheavals in her life, and Quinn and I want her to adjust to the situation in her own time, not force her into accepting us, so I just don't want you to overwhelm her with your exuberance."

While Rachel and Libby's relationship had made enormous strides in the last week, they were still far from close. A fact that Rachel was sure her fathers, especially Hiram, would pick up on. Quinn and Rachel had decided that the best way to explain the distance between Rachel and Libby would be to explain that they were letting the young girl accept Rachel on her own terms, and on her own time. This whole situation was going to be befuddling enough for Libby without the added confusion of having to call Rachel "Mommy".

Hiram patted Rachel reassuringly on the hand. "Don't worry sweetie, we know that Libby has been through a lot, and we will be sure to take it slow with her." His eyes twinkled warmly. "That doesn't mean that our excitement is going to be diminished however, so you will just have to bear the brunt of that I'm afraid."

Quinn entered the room, a freshly bathed and pajama clad Libby resting on her hip. The blonde had explained that they were having visitors over, and that Libby was going to get to meet Rachel's parents. The news had caused the toddler to retreat a bit into herself. Seeing the blonde enter the room the trio rose to their feet to greet the new arrivals. Libby turned her head and buried it in her mother's neck.

"Someone is feeling a little shy," Quinn explained, walking further into the room. "Libby honey why don't you say hello to Hiram and Leroy?" In response Libby shook her head and tried to burrow further into her mother's embrace. Quinn rolled her eyes slightly at the action, settling onto the couch beside Rachel.

"Hiram, Leroy, nice to see you both," Quinn greeted her fathers-in-law.

"Thank you for having us over," Hiram replied for the pair. "I know this must still be a fairly hectic time, but I was driving poor Leroy crazy with my desire to meet the newest addition. I hope it isn't too much trouble."

"It's no trouble," Quinn insisted with a smile. "As I'm sure you remember life with a toddler is always hectic, so if you waited for the 'perfect time' to do anything nothing would ever get done."

"Oh I remember it well," Hiram said, a smile flashing across his face as he got lost in his memories. "Rachel was a constant ball of energy, I swear I don't think the child ever stopped moving."

Quinn laughed. "I believe it, when I first moved in I couldn't believe how early she got up every day for her exercise routine. I remember being desperately envious of her seemingly endless energy."

"Oh, she is positively sloth like compared to when she was a toddler," Leroy finally chimed in. "If I hadn't been sure it would end us up in jail I contemplated more than a few times tying some weights to her ankles just to slow her down."

"Daddy," Rachel broke in, scandalized. "I hardly think it is appropriate to scare poor Libby with tales of you shackling children." Leroy looked at the child in question, who he could see peeking at him from the safety of her mother's lap, and winked.

"I think Libby agrees with me," Leroy insisted. Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed at her father's teasing.

Noticing that her daughter was starting to show some interest in the new arrivals Quinn gripped the girl under her arms and spun her around in her lap, so that she was now facing outward.

"Hi there," Hiram greeted with a small wave. "It is very nice to finally meet you Libby." The girl dropped her eyes bashfully, and didn't say a word. Hiram shifted his gaze to Quinn. "She reminds me so much of Rachel at that age."

"Well except for the talking, running, and constant breaking out into dance and song," Leroy chimed in drily. "Yes, almost a spitting image."

Rachel glared playfully at her father. "Remind me again why I invited you over?"

"Because every girl deserves a pair of doting grandfathers," Leroy replied cheekily.

Quinn felt Libby stiffen in her lap and she craned her neck so she could see the girls face. "What's the matter sweetie?" Quinn questioned, her concern growing when she felt her daughter starting to tremble slightly.

"No go," Libby insisted, shaking her head. Quinn looked at her daughter, puzzled.

"What are you talking about? Go where?"

"No go with them. Stay here," Libby repeated, growing more agitated. "No go, no go." Quinn's confusion suddenly cleared, and when it did her heart dropped. Wrapping her arms snuggly around her daughter she leaned down and rested her chin on Libby's shoulder, rocking her gently side to side.

"Shhhh, you don't have to go anywhere. Rachel's dads are just here for a visit, they wanted to meet you, but you don't have to go with them," Quinn reassured Libby.

Libby looked at Quinn doubtfully. "Promise?"

Quinn nodded her head and kissed Libby's neck. "I promise." Libby still looked a little skeptical, but she settled back in her mother's arms and continued to watch the two men warily.

Quinn looked up and saw Hiram and Leroy regarding the two of them. "Sorry about that, I think when she heard the "g" word she had a bit of a flashback." Hiram's expression softened and he gave Quinn a sympathetic look.

"There's no need to apologize Quinn. Libby went through a very disruptive upheaval, there is bound to be some residual issues."

"Rest assured Libby, our child rearing days are well behind us. While we will be more than happy to visit, even baby sit on occasion, we have no desire to bring you home. Raising one Rachel was more than enough," Leroy joked.

"Daddy, that isn't funny," Rachel cut in.

Leroy looked at his daughter with a smile. "Maybe not, but it is accurate. I think running around after a hyperactive toddler may even exhaust your supply of energy."

"If the 'g' word is upsetting would you prefer that she call us something else?" Hiram inquired kindly, ignoring the good natured bickering between his husband and daughter.

"Oh um, we hadn't really thought about it," Quinn replied, looking helplessly toward Rachel. Like the brunette, Quinn had not really given too much thought to how Libby would interact with Rachel's parents; she figured they would probably only see them on rare occasions and just hadn't worried about it too much.

Rachel met Quinn's eyes and shrugged, not really having any guidance on the issue, and deferring to whatever Quinn wanted to do.

"While I am still good with you calling me Mr. Berry, I do think it is a tad formally for Libby here," Leroy said teasingly.

Quinn scrambled for something to say. Leroy wasn't wrong, having Libby call the men who were supposed to be her grandfathers Mr. Berry would be a bit odd, not to mention confusing, since they had the same last name. On the other hand Quinn wasn't sure she was wild about the idea of Libby embracing the two men as grandparents, knowing that they would no longer be a part of her life after the year was over. She could hardly tell the two men that though, they believed that she and Rachel were deliriously in love. Further, they knew that she had no relationship with her own parents, so they thought they would be Libby's only grandparents.

Realizing that she didn't really have much of a choice if she had any hope of maintaining their cover, Quinn smiled at Rachel's fathers. "No, grandfather, or some variation is fine. Besides Libby needs to realize that it's not a bad word. The sooner she can put that whole episode behind her the better."

Hiram turned his attention toward Libby with a kindly smile. He was something of an expert on gaining the trust of wary toddlers. "How do you feel about that Libby? Will you like it if Leroy and I are your granddads?"

Libby eyed him silently, her gaze still holding mistrust and doubt. "No go?"

Hiram shook his head. "Nope, you get to stay right here, this is your home from now on, and no one can make you leave it."

"Damn straight," Leroy grumbled under his breath.

Quinn had to tamp down the desire to cut in and insist that they not promise Libby that, but she knew she couldn't. So she swallowed the words and they sat like an iron weight in her stomach.

"Don't want to leave," Libby insisted, her lower lip pouting out a bit.

"I don't blame you," Hiram answered. "So you like your new room? It has room for all your things?"

Warming to the conversation, and sensing no threat from the kindly man Libby nodded her head. "Have own room. Mr. Tubs likes too."

Quinn flushed in embarrassment when Libby mentioned finally having her own room. It had been bad enough to reveal their previous living conditions to Rachel, the idea of her fathers knowing was mortifying.

"And who is Mr. Tubs?" Hiram questioned.

"He my kitty. I thought he was gone, but he come back," Libby replied, her eyes clouding at the memory.

"Kitties sometimes like to wander off," Hiram commiserated, "but I'm glad he came back."

Libby nodded in agreement. "Me too, I miss him lots."

The group spent the next hour mostly watching Hiram interact with Libby, slowly but surely drawing the girl out more and more. Quinn merely sat in amazement; while Libby had grown more reserved after her "visit" to Ohio, even before she had never been particularly warm with strangers. Seeing her interact so easily with Rachel's dad was nothing short of amazing. Rachel and her other dad mostly talked amongst themselves, but would occasionally chime in to the conversation.

Finally Libby let out a jaw cracking yawn and Quinn knew it was time to put the girl to bed. As she was rising from the couch she realized that in her total absorption in watching Libby and Hiram she had forgotten to get dinner started.

"I hate to break up the party, but I think I need to get someone to bed. I also apologize, I got so caught up that I forgot to get the food started, so dinner is going to be a little later than I planned," Quinn stated apologetically.

Hiram brushed off her concern with a smile. "Don't worry about it Quinn, I have been enjoying myself immensely. If it would help I can get Libby settled and you can start on dinner."

"Thank you Hiram but I don't think that Libby will be comfortable with…"

"You read story," Libby interrupted, looking at Hiram. Quinn looked at her daughter in astonishment.

"You want Hir…Grandpa Hiram to read you a story before bed?" Quinn stumbled over the man's title but managed to catch herself; it was going to take some getting used to. The only other person that Libby had ever requested a story from before besides Quinn was Brittany.

Libby nodded firmly. "He see my room and meet Mr. Tubs."

"Okay, if you're sure…" Quinn trailed off, still uncertain.

Hiram smiled at the nervous mother. "Relax Quinn I have done this before."

Quinn flushed. "It's not that, I just have never seen her take to someone so quickly before."

Leroy laughed. "You should see him at the hospital, he's like the pied piper of the pre-K set."

Quinn nodded her head. "Okay well if you are positive you don't mind."

"I am sure. In fact, I brought Libby a small gift for just this occasion," Hiram replied. "Leroy can you go grab my coat?"

"Yes dear," Leroy replied dutifully and rose from the couch.

"You didn't have to get her anything," Quinn insisted.

"It's nothing much, just something that I think she may enjoy. Rachel always did," Hiram insisted.

At the mention of her name Rachel perked up. It wasn't that she had been ignoring the conversation, but she was content to let her Dad and Libby interact with one another. Part of her was envious of the ease with which her father was able to bond with the small girl. While she and Libby were making progress, she had never requested a bedtime story from Rachel, not that Rachel had offered, but that wasn't really the point, it would have been nice to be asked.

Leroy handed a slim, brightly wrapped package to his husband before settling back into his seat. Hiram extended the package to Libby, encouraging the girl to come forward and retrieve it. Libby looked at her mother, and receiving a nod of approval, walked forward and grabbed the package. With the enthusiasm typical of most children she immediately shredded the paper and tossed it to the ground.

When Rachel spotted the object in Libby's hands her gaze immediately darted to her fathers. He was already looking at her with a soft smile.

"Is that…?"

"It is," he answered with a nod before she could finish the question.

"You still have it?" Rachel questioned in astonishment.

Hiram's eyes crinkled as he smiled a bit wider. "Of course I still have it," he assured her. "You'll understand soon enough."

"What is it?" Quinn questioned, not able to see what her daughter was holding.

"A book," Libby responded simply, turning around to present the well loved tome for her mother's inspection.

Quinn quickly took in the condition of the volume and knew instantly that it had not been recently purchased. She glanced at Hiram in silent question.

"It was Rachel's favorite story book as a child; I thought Libby might like it."

Quinn swallowed thickly. "Oh, I don't know Hiram, judging by your and Rachel's remarks it seems like this has a lot of sentimental value. I wouldn't want Libby to ruin it."

Libby clutched the book tightly to her chest. "I no ruin it!" she insisted sharply. "It mine."

Before Quinn could scold her daughter Hiram interrupted. "Quinn, its fine. If it could survive Rachel I am sure it can survive Libby. Besides it was always my intention to pass it on to Rachel when she finally had kids."

Quinn simply nodded in response, once again being in a position that made it impossible for her to correct the man. She would just have to make sure that Libby left it behind when they left; she was not going to run off with family keepsakes. "Thank you, I'm sure she will love it."

Hiram nodded at Quinn before directing his attention to Libby. "So how about we go pick out a story or two from your new book?"

* * *

Quinn carried the last plate of food out to the table. Rachel had offered to help after Hiram had gone to read to Libby but Quinn had insisted that she go keep Leroy company; the last thing she wanted was him hovering around while she worked in the kitchen.

Even though she had bungled the start time by a little bit the meal came together quickly and without incident. She bit her lip as she surveyed the dining room table, hoping that it would be good enough. Knowing that she was now only delaying, and that the food was getting cold, Quinn ran her hands nervously down her sides and went to retrieve Rachel and her dad from the living room.

Upon entering she saw that Hiram had once again joined the group. "Did she go down okay?" Quinn asked anxiously.

Hiram nodded his head. "Without a hitch. I didn't realize how much I had missed reading bedtime stories, so I may have let her talk me into a few more than normal," Hiram replied with a sheepish grin.

Quinn waved off the concern. "I just appreciate the offer, and the fact that she let you."

Rachel crossed her arms and pouted at her father. "She hasn't even asked me to read to her yet."

Quinn looked at Rachel in surprise. "Was that something that you wanted to do?" Quinn asked without thinking, momentarily forgetting their audience. Quinn had been both surprised and a little concerned about Rachel's interactions with Libby. While she was glad that the two were becoming closer, and Libby was coming out of her shell, she didn't want her daughter to get too attached.

Rachel shrugged. "I wouldn't necessarily object to it." A quick grin flashed across her face. "I have been enjoying our sing-a-longs."

Leroy rolled his eyes. "Quinn please tell me she is not already indoctrinating the poor child. If she manages to draw her over to the dark side you will never have a moment of peace. Not a moment," Leroy stressed in dire warning.

Rachel huffed. "I have simply been exposing Libby to the wonder of musical theater. Her education was tragically neglected. You make it sound like I am trying to convince her to join some creepy cult."

Leroy shrugged. "Close enough."

Rachel slapped his arm playfully. "If it was so awful why did you pay for all the music lessons and take me to all those Broadway shows."

Leroy immediately pointed to Hiram. "He made me do it."

Quinn watched the byplay between father and daughter with a wistful smile. Such an interaction would have been unheard of in her house; one did not banter with Russell Fabray. When she saw Hiram observing her watch the pair she shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Dinner is ready. I apologize again for the delay."

"Nonsense Quinn," Hiram insisted as the group made its way toward the dining room. "It gave me an opportunity to spend some time with my new granddaughter." Upon entering the room Hiram took in the spread on the table and turned to the blonde. "It looks amazing."

Quinn dropped her gaze, not comfortable with the praise, and shrugged. "It's nothing fancy," she insisted.

Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed Quinn's hand, dragging her around the table. "She keeps saying that, and I keep telling her how wrong she is, since she won't listen to me maybe she will listen to you two."

The foursome sat down and conversation was sparse as they all dug in, each a little hungrier than they had wanted to admit to the blonde.

"Quinn this salad dressing is delicious," Leroy complimented. "Where did you get it?"

"She made it," Rachel answered before Quinn could once again shrug off the praise. "In fact she made the whole meal from scratch."

Leroy looked at the blonde appraisingly. "The takeout places in a four block radius are surely going to weep at the loss. I'm sure most of them knew Rachel by name."

"Keep making fun of me, and see if I ever have Quinn make her pancakes for you," Rachel retorted, knowing her father's weakness for the breakfast food.

"I'm something of a pancake connoisseur, are yours really that good?" Leroy questioned the blonde.

Quinn opened her mouth to respond, but was once again cut off by Rachel. "Delicious," Rachel sing-songed.

"Is cooking more than a hobby Quinn? I don't think you ever mentioned what it is you do for a living," Hiram interrupted, knowing that his husband and daughter could keep up their playful banter almost indefinitely.

Quinn, who had once again been watching the byplay fondly, quickly chewed and swallowed the bite of steak she had just taken. "I do work around food, but not as a cook, I'm a waitress." Quinn fought to maintain the man's gaze; she knew that her job was nothing to be ashamed of, it had allowed her to support her and Libby, but she couldn't help but feel inadequate.

"Are you going to keep working now that you're married?" Leroy asked suddenly.

Quinn stiffened slightly and swung her gaze to meet his. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked challengingly.

"Strike a nerve?" Leroy asked back instead of answering.

Rachel reached over and covered Quinn's hand, indicating she wanted to answer. "Santana has been giving her a bit of a rough time about her job. She insists that it is unseemly for Quinn to have such a ….menial job now that she is married to me and that it doesn't look right."

"She has a bit of a point," Leroy responded. "It is sure to raise more than a few eyebrows once it gets out, that not only is your wife working, she's working as a waitress."

"What's so wrong with being a waitress?" Quinn asked, no longer able to hold her tongue. "It was one of the few jobs I was able to get with little to no schooling, which gave me the flexibility I needed with Libby, and paid enough to keep us housed and fed." Quinn knew she was being overly defensive, and Rachel's father hadn't done anything to warrant such hostility, but she was tired of constantly having to defend her job.

"There's nothing wrong with it Quinn," Hiram interjected, hoping to defray the escalating tension.

Leroy turned to his husband. "There may be nothing wrong with the job, but there is something wrong with our daughter's wife having it."

Quinn pushed back from the table, preparing to stand. She had been lulled into a false sense of acceptance by Leroy's behavior earlier this evening. While he had managed to put a good face on it for awhile it was clear he still had issue with her and Rachel. If Quinn hadn't been so blinded by hurt she would have maybe stopped to consider just why that thought bothered her so much.

Before she could stand Rachel's hand was once again clamped around hers, holding her in place. "Daddy that's not fair. There is nothing wrong with Quinn's job, and I will tell you the same things that I have told Santana. If Quinn wants to keep working that is her decision."

Leroy looked at his daughter and softened his expression fractionally. "Sweetheart I am just thinking of you, Quinn and Libby."Quinn scoffed audibly, drawing the man's attention. "I understand you and Rachel went to a benefit for the Theatre Arts Academy of New York last weekend, how did you find that?"

Quinn looked at the man in confusion, not understanding the sudden shift in topic. "It was okay," she answered in a measured tone.

"Meet lots of nice people?" Quinn shrugged noncommittally. "Meet a lot of potential new friends?"

"One or two," Quinn replied, thinking of Tina and Artie.

"Daddy what is your point," Rachel broke in, growing frustrated by her father's badgering of Quinn.

Leroy cut his eyes back to his daughter. "My point Rachel is that the people in our…social circle can be somewhat less than forgiving of people they view as different." Leroy looked at his daughter pointedly.

Quinn looked between Rachel and Leroy, sensing an undercurrent, but not able to discern it. "What is he talking about?" Quinn asked the brunette.

Rachel bit her lip. "I think I have mentioned, and Santana has alluded to, the fact that I wasn't the most popular child growing up." Quinn nodded but remained silent. "Well it was a bit more than not having friends," Rachel continued, wringing her hands nervously. She had worked really hard to leave her childhood self behind, she really didn't want to dredge that up in front of the blonde now.

"She was bullied. We tried to shield her as best we could, but I don't think she ever really told us the full extent of it," Hiram interjected softly, a sad smile on his face.

Rachel flushed and looked down at her lap. Quinn shook her head, still confused. "I still don't see what this has to do with my job," Quinn said in frustration.

"They bullied her because she had two gay dads," Leroy stated bluntly. "It wasn't quite so 'trendy' back then. You met the parent's Saturday Quinn, how many of them did you tell what you did for a living?"

Quinn flushed. "It didn't really come up," she answered flatly. The few times it had she had diverted the conversation. She wasn't ashamed of her job, but Leroy wasn't wrong in his assumption that she had tried to avoid the topic.

Leroy looked at her skeptically. "And how long do you think that will last? How do you think they are going to treat Libby when they find out what her mom does for a living? These kids grew up with maids, butlers, and nannies, do you think they are going to be kind to the waitresses daughter?"

Quinn clenched her jaw. She knew exactly how those kids would treat Libby. She should, she had been one of them in high school. They would find the thing that made her different, her weak spot, and they would dig at it until it was tender and raw. And when they realized that they had drawn blood they would only push harder.

"Daddy enough!" Rachel exclaimed, seeing the distress on the blonde's features. "I think you have made your point. You don't need to continue to make Quinn feel badly about it." She gave her father a reproachful look. "I never would have taken you for a snob."

Leroy softened his expression. "It's not about snobbery Rachel, at least not mine. It killed your Dad and I to see you suffer like that, all for something you had no control over. Do you not realize how much we wished we could have spared you that? But short of not being who we are, there was nothing we could do, nothing we could change." Leroy met Quinn's gaze, his expression radiating warmth and sincerity. "I think you have managed to do an incredible job, and neither Hiram nor I are embarrassed by what you do for a living, but not everyone will see it that way. I just wanted to try to spare Libby some of what we couldn't spare Rachel."

Seeing the sincerity in the man's gaze Quinn felt the fight go out of her, and her shoulders sagged. The man just wanted to protect his daughter, something she could understand fully. "I apologize, I didn't mean to get so defensive. It's just that Santana has been pushing me on this since the beginning and…" Quinn shook her head, "…I reacted badly."

Leroy smiled. "If anyone should apologize it's me. I explained my reasons badly."

"Yes you did," Rachel bit off sharply, not quite as willing as Quinn to forgive and forget.

Leroy dipped his head toward Rachel, conceding the point. "So what's for dessert?"

* * *

Rachel padded down the hallway, mindful not to make too much noise and risk waking Libby. The girl had thankfully slept through the rather spirited discussion that had erupted earlier. Luckily other than that one exchange the rest of the evening had gone much more smoothly.

Rachel's dads were just eager to get to know this woman that Rachel had made her wife. For the first time since she had proposed the idea of deceiving her father's Rachel felt uneasy. She wasn't sure why, but it hadn't occurred to her that dads may get emotionally invested. At the time she had only been concerned about protecting her ego.

Quinn had been gracious, but Rachel felt like she needed to find the blonde and apologize. Making a quick circuit of the apartment she was about to give up, thinking the blonde must have gone to bed when Rachel went to her room to change, when she spotted Quinn on the balcony. Opening the door Rachel immediately shivered when the brisk early October air chilled her.

Quinn glanced at her wordlessly. Rachel rubbed her arms to warm herself slightly and walked over to join the other woman near the railing. The view really was spectacular, but Rachel rarely took the time to enjoy it.

"I was so worried about this balcony before Libby moved in," Rachel said.

Quinn glanced at her sideways, her brow furrowed. "Why?"

Rachel laughed lightly, mostly at herself. "I don't have a lot of experience with kids. I wasn't sure if it would be safe. I think I drove Santana crazy with my worries."

Quinn turned her body to face the brunette. "Is that why it was like trying to break into Fort Knox to get the door to the balcony open?"

Rachel flushed and nodded her head bashfully. "I may have hired a baby proofer to come in while you were working to make sure the doors and windows were secure."

Quinn felt a surge of emotion in her chest and had to blink rapidly to dispel the tears that threatened to form at the confession. "Thank you," she responded, her voice a little more husky than normal. "It really means a lot that you would go to that much trouble. Especially for two people that are strangers."

Rachel looked up suddenly, catching Quinn's gaze and holding it. "You and Libby aren't strangers."

"Well we were at the time."

"Maybe so, but I would like to think we are friends now."

Quinn nodded her head in agreement. "Me too."

Rachel fidgeted with her fingers nervously. "And as a friend, I really wanted to apologize for how my Daddy acted this evening."

Quinn shook her head and averted her gaze, once again looking out over the city. "You don't have anything to apologize for; he was just doing his job as a parent." Quinn glanced back at Rachel. "He just wanted to protect you; I can't fault him for that."

"He could have gone about it a different way." Rachel sighed and bit her lip. "I also wanted to apologize for how they were with Libby."

Quinn frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? They were great with Libby."

"I could tell you were a little uncomfortable with the whole 'grandfather' thing." Quinn shrugged slightly, as if to dismiss the statement, but Rachel persisted. "I tried to tell them not to push, but I should have anticipated their…zealousness." Rachel drew in a deep breath. "If you want to tell them the truth, I understand."

"The truth?"

Rachel nodded. "I confess that when we started this I never really stopped to think how it would play out. I was very much caught up in the grand plan, and didn't stop to consider all the little day to day details. Sometimes my desire to attain my goals can blind me. Seeing my dads with Libby tonight…..I realized that by not telling them the truth other people are probably going to get hurt."

Quinn remained silent. She had not been as unaware of the potential fallout as the brunette, but she had also not realized quite how readily the Berrys would embrace her and Libby. It was one of the reasons she had sought refuge on the balcony; she needed to think.

When she had agreed to this scheme she had arrogantly thought that she could contain the impact on Libby. Libby was young, and was already used to living with Brittany, so surely living with Rachel wouldn't seem that much different to the small girl. Rachel and Santana hadn't been interested in incorporating Libby in their publicity scheme; if they had Quinn never would have agreed. Quinn had convinced herself that it would just be like living with a roommate, and Libby would be negligibly affected. The one thing she hadn't counted on was Rachel's parents.

"Will it matter?" Quinn finally asked.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked with a furrowed brow.

"Your dads, if they suddenly find out that you and I are faking this whole thing for the sake of my custody issues, and your career, will they treat Libby any differently?"

Rachel winced at the blunt phrasing; it really did paint her motives in a less than flattering light. "I don't think so," Rachel replied. "At least not much, regardless of the reason, we are married, and you and Libby are technically family, so I can't see them just cutting you out. If anything we may get some well meaning lectures on the importance of marriage and making things work," Rachel quipped, only partially joking.

Quinn drew in a deep breath. "Then let's just leave things as they are." Quinn shrugged. "It's probably more than a little selfish of me, but I like that Libby is going to know what it's like to have a pair of doting grandparents, even if it is only for a short time."

Rachel heard the wistfulness in the blonde's voice and rested a comforting hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I meant what I said earlier, about us being friends. I don't have that many so I tend to hang on to them. My dads and I aren't just going to disappear at the end of the year when we dissolve our….arrangement. We will still be friends, and as friends, we will be here for you."

Quinn quirked a brow. "You don't think it will be more than a little awkward to remain friends with the person everyone believes to be your ex-wife?"

Rachel scoffed and swatted Quinn playfully on the shoulder. "Quinn we're lesbians, it's practically a rule we have to remain friends."

Quinn smiled, happy for a moment of levity. "I must have missed that memo along with all the others."

Rachel patted Quinn's back reassuringly. "Well if you would like I can put together a brief presentation, your lack of knowledge about gay culture is almost as glaring as your daughter's about musical theatre."

* * *

Rachel sagged back against the door and let out a sigh of relief. Quinn had tried to warn her, but Rachel had waved off her concerns, convinced that the blonde was exaggerating. As Rachel took in the wasteland her once immaculate apartment had become, she conceded that maybe Quinn had had a point. Rachel just couldn't conceive that such tiny people could cause that much havoc.

"I did try to warn you," Quinn said, hands on her hips, a smirk in place as she surveyed the limp brunette.

"I just…it was…I had no idea," Rachel replied, still slightly shell shocked.

"Well maybe you will remember this the next time I try to warn you," Quinn teased.

Rachel nodded her head emphatically. "I will, I so will," Rachel replied earnestly. Pushing off the door Rachel ventured further into the apartment. "Oh god," she muttered as she took in the full scope of the damage. "It looks like wild animals were let loose," Rachel observed, stunned.

Quinn snorted. "Worse. Two dozen three year olds hopped up on cake and ice cream."

Quinn looked at the disarrayed room, to the still traumatized brunette. "Why don't you go relax, I can clean this up."

Rachel looked at the blonde in surprise. "Clean it?"

Quinn looked at Rachel quizzically. "Yes clean it, what else would I do?"

"Leave it for the maid?" Rachel queried.

Quinn laughed. "Rachel it's Saturday afternoon, your maid doesn't come in again until Monday." Quinn gestured around at the chaos surrounding them. "Are you actually telling me you can live with this until then?" Quinn paused. "Assuming of course that your maid doesn't quit as soon as she sees it?"

Rachel bit her lip. Quinn had a point. "I suppose not." Rachel squared her shoulders. "But I'm not going to leave you to clean this up all by yourself, it was my idea, I'll help."

When Hiram had learned that Quinn was still shuttling Libby across town for child care he had insisted on putting her in touch with one of his clients who ran a nearby child care center. Quinn had resisted initially, she had wanted to keep Libby's routine as normal as possible, but she had finally relented when Hiram continued to extol the praises of the school he had in mind. While Quinn didn't want to disrupt Libby, she also didn't want to stunt her daughter's development, and she knew that her current day care situation was far from ideal.

The pre-K program was run by Emma Pillsbury, the mother of one of Hiram's patients. Her school focused on early childhood development and, much to Rachel's delight, had a heavy emphasis on the arts. Quinn had allowed Hiram to set up an appointment for the three of them to go check out the school. Libby and fallen in love with it almost immediately; she had never been around so many kids her own age and had wasted no time making friends.

Libby had been impressed with all of children, toys, and art supplies. Rachel had been taken with the focus on musical education, and the fact that they did twice a year shows for the parents. Quinn had never seen a daycare so spotless in her life. By the end of the visit they were sold. There was only one small problem.

"_Rachel, I can't let you pay for this, seriously it is way too much," Quinn insisted vehemently._

"_Quinn you saw how much she liked it there, just let me do this, it is no big deal," Rachel insisted, hands on her hips._

"_No big deal to you maybe, but there is no way I will ever be able to pay you back that kind of money." Quinn knew that daycare was expensive, even the setup she had with was far from cheap, but she had been absolutely speechless when she learned the price tag; it was more than she made in a year, hell it was more than she made in two._

"_Did I ask you to pay it back?" Rachel argued._

_Quinn clenched her jaw. "We have been over this. I am not comfortable taking your money any more than I need to, and only if I can pay it back."_

"_So you are going to punish Libby then?" Rachel insisted._

"_That's not fair," Quinn bit out. "It kills me that I can't give her this, I was there too, I saw how much she loved it, but I just can't afford it. There is no way."_

_Rachel sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry, you're right, that wasn't fair." Rachel looked at Quinn imploringly. "Please let me do this for her, I really want to. Don't look at it as something you have to pay me back for, it's something I'm doing for her, not for you."_

"_Rachel I don't know…." Quinn could feel her resistance crumbling. The school had been amazing, and Libby would flourish there. Rachel seemed to genuinely want to do this, and the money didn't seem to make her even blink._

"_Momma, Momma, come help me pick out clothes for school!" Whatever resistance Quinn had remaining was decimated by her daughter's excitement. _

_Libby would be starting school on Monday._

Libby absolutely loved school, and had already made friends with most of the kids in class. With Libby's third birthday fast approaching Quinn had approached Rachel with the idea of throwing a small party at the apartment for Libby and some of her new friends. Libby's previous birthdays had been small affairs, celebrated without much fanfare with Quinn and Brittany being the only quests. Libby still mentioned the party she had been to before her trip to Ohio, and Quinn wanted to give her a party of her own.

The eagerness with which Rachel had agreed should have been Quinn's first warning. What had started out as a simple party for a three-year-old had quickly morphed into the three ring circus they had just concluded. Rachel had insisted on helping plan the party, and Quinn had been happy for the help. She was still working her shifts at the diner, and while Libby's new school was much closer and eased some of the time crunch, she was still tired and short on time most days.

Once Rachel had gotten involved everything about the party had grown. Quinn had tried to rein it in but it had been futile. She had finally stopped when Santana had pulled her aside and explained why Rachel was going so over the top.

"_Look I know Berry is driving you a little crazy with this party planning, but it's just that she never really had this when she was a kid. The kids we went to school with where dicks, and their parents didn't want their kids associating with 'those people' so she missed out on the traditional birthday party experience."_

After that Quinn had let Rachel do more or less what she wanted. The other woman was clearly enjoying herself, and Libby would be over the moon on her birthday.

When the people had started to crowd into the apartment Quinn had started to doubt her decision. Rachel had insisted on inviting every single one of Libby's classmates; and to Quinn's surprise almost all of them had attended. Rachel had played the gracious hostess and greeted everyone warmly, genuinely seeming to enjoy the throng of people that had invaded her house.

Since Rachel had more or less taken control of the party planning there was very little for Quinn to actually do for the part. Rachel had hired caterers, insisting that it was too much to expect Quinn to cook for that many people. Of course if the food was being catered it only made sense for them to make the cake as well.

A theme for the party was a must. Though Rachel had continued to expose Libby to new musicals the Wizard of Oz was still proving to be a favorite, so the theme selection had been easy. Quinn had drawn the lines at costumes. Undeterred Rachel had instead transformed the living room of her apartment into a mini-land of Oz, complete with yellow brick road.

Rachel's hostess duties had come to an abrupt halt when Libby had sought her out to sing the "ding-dong song". As soon as Rachel had sung her first song the children had swarmed her and demanded song after song. Never one to turn down a performance Rachel had spent the rest of the party performing for a rapt audience.

"Is the coast finally clear?" Santana asked from the edge of the living room. Rachel, who had just returned from retrieving a couple of trash bags from the kitchen glared at her friend.

"Are you still here? I thought you had already left."

"I've been hanging out in your bedroom," Santana replied, unrepentant. When Rachel continued to look annoyed Santana shrugged. "Don't give me that look. You were the crazy person that decided to have a theme birthday party for a small herd of hyperactive three year olds, it was self preservation."

Rachel rolled her eyes and blew out an annoyed breath. "Well since you have finally resurfaced you can help us clean up."

"Hey do you guys need a hand cleaning up?" Whatever retort Santana had been about to let fly was cut off by the arrival of Brittany.

"Perfect timing. If you wouldn't mind," Quinn answered with a thankful nod.

Rachel sent a pointed look Santana's way. "Fine, give me a bag." Snatching one of the trash bags from Rachel the Latina began scooping up the scattered cups and plates.

"Where's Libby?" Quinn questioned her friend.

"I scraped her off the floor in the dining room, and put her in her bed. I think she finally ran out of steam and just decided to sleep wherever she fell."

"Do you think she had fun?" Rachel asked.

Quinn looked at the brunette disbelievingly. "Are you serious?" Seeing the other woman nod Quinn laughed softly. "Yes Rachel, she had fun. I think she will remember this day for quite a while. While the kids loved it, I am pretty sure that the other parents may hate you."

Rachel bit her lip looking worried. "Why? Was it the food? I knew I should have gone with some more adult friendly options but I wanted the kids to be able to eat whatever was served too."

"It wasn't the food, the food was amazing. It was the fact that you have totally messed up the bell curve for what their kids will be expecting out of their own parties."

"Oh well I can't be held responsible if they lack imagination when it comes to planning their kids parties. As long as Libby and her friends had fun."

Quinn nodded her head. "They most definitely had fun, I am sure Libby will be able to talk about little else for quite a while."

"It's too bad your dads weren't able to come today, I was really looking forward to meeting them. Quinn has nothing but nice things to say about them at work," Brittany said. She had taken the bag from Santana and was holding it open while the other woman deposited trash inside.

"They really wanted to be here," Rachel replied. "Unfortunately Dad had to work at the hospital today and Daddy…"

"Was smart enough to know that a three-year-olds birthday party was the last place he wanted to be," Santana joked.

Rachel glared at her friend. "If you hate it here so much why did you come?" Rachel demanded.

Santana flushed and cut her eyes quickly to Brittany before looking back at Rachel. "I didn't say I hated it, besides Libby asked me to come."

"Awwww Santa is just a big old softie," Rachel cooed teasingly at her friend, her irritation evaporating when she saw her friend's uncharacteristic bashfulness.

"Shut up I am not," Santana retorted, shoving Rachel playfully.

Rachel, not expecting the move, let out a squeak as she went toppling over the back of the nearby couch.

Quinn eyed the pair with pursed lips, hands on her hips. "Do I need to put you two in time out?"

"Santana started it," Rachel insisted, pointing an accusing finger at her friend.

* * *

Later that evening, the apartment once again in habitable shape, Quinn finally took a moment to relax on the couch. She put her sock clad feet up on the coffee table and folded her hands across her stomach, staring sightlessly in front of her.

She needed to talk to Rachel, and she had been putting it off. Time was running out though, and she was going to have to muster up her nerve and have the conversation sooner rather than later. She couldn't continue to avoid the topic any longer; she needed to know where they stood before she could make a final decision. Instead of going off in search of the brunette Quinn decided to stay and enjoy the peace and quiet a little bit longer, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before the other woman wandered through.

Her assumption was proven correct when less than fifteen minutes later Rachel padded into the room. Seeing Quinn on the couch Rachel smiled and made her way over.

"You look utterly relaxed," Rachel said, taking in the blonde's outfit of sweat pants and hoodie.

"Utterly exhausted is more like it," Quinn replied with a tired smile.

Rachel settled onto one end of the couch and turned her body sideways to face the blonde. "Libby finally go to sleep?" After a brief nap the toddler had awoken full of energy once more. Overwhelmed with all the toys she had received she had seemed to have trouble deciding what she wanted to do, and it had taken quite a while to calm her down enough after dinner to finally settle in for the night.

Quinn nodded. "I think she is afraid that if she goes to sleep all of this is going to turn out to be a dream."

"So she liked all of her toys?"

"I'm pretty sure she thinks she's died and gone to heaven," Quinn replied. She still had concerns about this experience spoiling Libby, but when she had seen her daughter's unbridled joy and excitement she couldn't bring herself to begrudge the girl.

Quin honestly hadn't anticipated that Rachel, and by extension her family, would be so eager to bestow their attention, time and money on Libby. When she had realized, she tried to offer resistance. It didn't seem right to her that Rachel should be spending this much money on Quinn's daughter. While Quinn wasn't proud of it, her resistance was proving weak, and she kept finding herself giving in. The school, the party; she wanted to be able to provide these things for Libby, and she was finding it would take a stronger person than her, to them down when they seemed so freely offered.

"I just hope she likes the Toto I got her." Quinn had insisted that Rachel didn't need to get Libby any presents for her birthday, the party was more than enough, but Rachel had insisted, and Quinn realized there wasn't really much she could do to actually stop the brunette. Knowing of Libby's love for the Wizard of Oz, and of her stuffed animal Mr. Tubs, Rachel had decided to get her a stuffed Toto to keep the plush feline company.

"Well since he has earned a coveted spot sleeping in bed with her and Mr. Tubs I would say that she likes him." Quinn swallowed nervously, knowing that she had to stop delaying. "Rachel I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you about something."

Picking up on the nervousness in the blonde's voice Rachel looked at her in concern. "Of course, is something wrong?"

"No, I mean, I think everything is going okay?" The statement came out more like a question. Quinn licked her lips and pushed her hair behind her ear. Swinging her feet of the table she sat upright and turned her body so she was facing Rachel. "I just wanted to talk to you about my apartment."

"Your apartment?" Rachel asked in confusion.

Quinn nodded. "When I moved out I agreed to keep paying rent to Brittany, since it wasn't really fair for her to be stuck with the full rent on an apartment that she wouldn't even be in if it weren't for Libby and me." Rachel nodded, letting Quinn know that she was following and that the blonde should continue. "I also told her that if I wasn't able to pay her, that she should feel free to get a roommate, or a smaller place."

Rachel furrowed her brow in concern. "Are you having problems paying her? Did you need to borrow some money? I would be happy to give you whatever you need."

Quinn flushed and shook her head. "Thanks, but no, the money isn't the issue." Quinn looked down at her lap as she played nervously with the hem of her sweat shirt. "It's just that I was maybe considering going back to school…to finish my degree."

Rachel clapped her hands happily. "Quinn that's great! I'm so happy for you."

Quinn glanced up to catch Rachel's gaze, smiling slightly. "Thanks, but um, that's what I needed to talk to you about." Seeing the look of confusion on Rachel's face the blonde continued. "If I go back to school, I am going to need to stop working at the diner, and if I do that I am not going to be able to keep paying rent to Brittany. I already talked to her about this, and she isn't really interested in getting another roommate, so she will start looking for a one bedroom."

Rachel nodded her head. "Okay, but I still don't understand what you need to talk to me about?"

Quinn worried at her lower lip. "You're still happy with our arrangement right? You still think this is working?"

Rachel tilted her head, trying to follow the blonde's seemingly divergent train of thought. "Of course….Why? Do you not?"

Quinn shook her head. "No I do…I just…" Quinn blew out a frustrated breath. "I am not used to relying on other people. If I do this; quit my job, let the apartment go, start school, I just need to be sure that you aren't suddenly going to change your mind about this."

Finally seeing the problem Rachel reached out and rested a reassuring hand on Quinn's knee. "I'm not going to change my mind. All things considered I think we have been getting along remarkably well, and I really like having you and Libby here." If you had told Rachel she would have said that and meant it a few months ago, she would have scoffed, but she was being totally honest with the blonde. In an amazingly short amount of time she had grown accustomed to having the pair around; she was going to miss them when they moved out. Rachel shook her head, now wanting to dwell on that right now.

"I think it's fantastic that you are considering going back to school. What changed your mind? I hope my Daddy didn't make you feel like you had to quit your job, because you know that I am fine with whatever you want to do," Rachel insisted fiercely.

Quinn relaxed back into the couch. "He didn't, but I realized that I may have been letting my stubbornness dictate my actions." Quinn flashed a wry smile. "I tend to react badly when people issue orders, so when Santana was so insistent that I quit I think I dug my heels in just on principal." Quinn ran her hands through her hair. "It's not like being a waitress at a diner is my life goal. I just have been so focused on simply getting through the next day I never really stopped to think about a long range plan. I always wanted to finish my degree, but I never thought it was going to be possible while Libby was still little. Now though, with everything, it seems possible."

"It is," Rachel affirmed. "If you need help with anything, just let me know, that's what friends are for."

"You have already done enough, but thank you. I just figured I could either spend the next year continuing to work at a dead end job, or I could try to use the next year as an opportunity to finally get ahead, so at the end of it, a dead end job isn't my only option."

Quinn had thought long and hard about this decision. She had been barely treading water before, just making enough money to get by. It wasn't the life she wanted for her daughter, but once she had gotten stuck in the cycle she hadn't seen a way out. She couldn't work and go to school at the same time; she didn't have the money, time, or energy to do both while also taking care of her daughter.

She was still extremely nervous about quitting her job and being totally dependent on Rachel. Trust was not something that came easily for Quinn, nor was relying on other people to be there for her. The only person that she had ever been able to count on besides herself was Brittany. Rachel had been nothing short of fantastic to her, but she was still essentially a stranger. Quinn had realized though that if she ever hoped to break out of the cycle she had found herself in she was going to have to take a leap of faith, to gamble, and hoped the odds were in her favor.

She still had her savings, and with Rachel's dad taking over her legal issues, she could use the money she had saved for lawyers as an emergency fund if things suddenly went sour with the brunette. It may make her slightly sick to her stomach to do, but she needed to take this chance. Especially if she ever actually hoped to repay Rachel one day; there was no way she was ever going to be able to do that on a waitress's salary.

"Well I think this is a fantastic idea," Rachel enthused. "Do you know what you want to study?"

Quinn shrugged. "I was undeclared before, but I was thinking maybe Business Management or something similar." Quinn laughed when Rachel wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I need to be practical. I need to major in something that will result in a decent paying job. We can't all be theatre majors," Quinn teased.

"It's just so….."

"Pragmatic?"

"Boring," Rachel answered.

"It could be worse," Quinn replied.

"How?"

"I could be considering Accounting."

"Oh god, anything but that!" Rachel cried playfully. "You are far too cute to be an accountant."Quinn blushed at the unexpected compliment, and light flirting. "Though I bet you would look adorable in a business suit and glasses."


	12. Chapter 12 - At Last

AN: I could probably just cut and paste my AN from any of my previous chapters, since the content is likely to be the same. So to summarize - Sorry it's been so long, no I haven't forgotten about the fic, I am just super slow and lazy when it comes to writing, I appreciate anyone that is still interested, and I will try to do better next time. I think that about sums it up.

This chapter is a bit of a short one. This, and what is now going to be Chapter 13, were originally supposed to be one chapter, but what I thought was going to be a series of fairly brief scenes stitched together, ballooned in size. So in the interest of actually getting something posted, and not posting a 50+ page chapter, I decided to split it at a logical break point. The 'good' news is that this means the next update should be soon-ish, as it is mostly written.

The only thing that I own are the mistakes, and any feedback is always appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 12 - At Last  
**

Rachel snuggled comfortably into the couch, feet up on the coffee table as she flipped idly through her Netflix queue. Technically it was Quinn's turn to choose, but she was hoping that she could convince the blonde to let her pick what they would watch.

The three of them had fallen into a comfortable rhythm over the last few weeks. What had started out as Rachel wanting to expose Libby to more classical children's musicals had expanded to include weekly movie night with Quinn. Every Friday they would watch a new movie with Libby, so far they had gotten through The Lion King, Aladdin and Beauty and the Beast. Then, once Quinn got Libby settled for the night, the pair would pick something to watch together.

Rachel had been so single mindedly focused on landing a role for so long that it was nice to just take a break and lose herself in a movie for a few hours. The weekly movies with Libby and Quinn had highlighted for Rachel that she needed to relax a little and focus on actually enjoying herself a little more.

Rachel was pretty sure Quinn was enjoying the down time as well. While Rachel had been focused on her career Quinn had spent most of her time working, caring for Libby, or sleeping. She had cut back her hours drastically, working only lunch shifts Monday through Thursday, intending to quit totally once her classes started up in January.

Rachel had encouraged her to quit altogether but the blonde had resisted; she insisted that until the semester started she would have nothing to occupy her time, with Libby now at pre-school, and she might as well keep working; she would go stir crazy just sitting at home all day. Rachel could see the logic in that, she wouldn't be able to sit home all day either, so she had let the matter drop. Even though she was still working, the decrease in hours had had a positive effect and Rachel could sense that Quinn was much less tired and stressed out.

So Friday nights, and often Saturday nights as well, had become times for the two of them to just kick back and relax. Rachel hadn't realized how much she had been missing this small slice of normalcy. Much to Santana's annoyance there hadn't been any other events that could act as opportunities to take advantage of the visibility boost provided by the blog article. The Latina's annoyance was somewhat mitigated by the fact that she had received a call from Artie Abrahms inviting Rachel to try out for a part in his next show.

Rachel was cautiously optimistic, but her excitement was dampened by the knowledge that she probably only received the call as a result of Quinn's defense of Artie's wife Tina, and not because of her own merit. She had gotten a few bit parts, but nothing that would warrant a personal phone call from the show producer to her agent. She had already been planning to go to the open auditions, but being able to go to a scheduled audition, and not having to wait with the other aspiring singers was a nice change. Still Rachel refused to get her hopes up and, besides Santana, she had not shared the news of the audition with anyone.

"Don't even think about it," Quinn joked as she entered the living room and made her way over to the couch. Flopping down next to the brunette Quinn reached over and plucked the remote from Rachel's grasp. "Not a chance."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Rachel replied imperiously, crossing her arms across her chest with a huff.

Quinn looked at the other woman challengingly. "Sure you don't." Quinn flipped through the options on the screen idly. "So did you see anything that looked interesting?"

Rachel perked up marginally, if Quinn hadn't already settled on anything maybe she had a chance to convince her after all. "Well there is a recording of the stage production of the original Broadway cast of Into the Woods," Rachel replied eagerly. When Quinn simply looked at her flatly Rachel continued, "Well if Into the Woods isn't your thing there is a concert production of Phantom of the Opera. The concert productions are of course far inferior to a full stage show, but still quite pleasing." Still not receiving a positive response Rachel threw up her hands slightly. "They also have Shrek the Musical available."

Quinn laughed good naturedly and shook her head. "Now you see why I said not a chance."

Rachel pouted. "Well why did you ask then?"

"I was testing a hypothesis," Quinn teased with a grin. "Maybe we can watch the Shrek thing with Libby next week though, she may like that."

Rachel looked slightly appeased by this news, though she had thrown out the Shrek musical as more of a joke than a serious suggestion. "So what are we watching tonight?"

The first few times Quinn had picked a movie she had played it safe and gone with a romantic comedy, figuring Rachel would enjoy that as well. Rachel, however seemed to have no such consideration when picking films, and Quinn had had to sit through Yentle. Quinn figured it was time to take the gloves off and watch what she actually wanted to.

"I was thinking of starting Battlestar Galactica, I started watching it with my roommate in college, and then well, life happened. I have always wanted to finish it, and see how it ends." Quinn motioned to the screen, remote still in hand.

"Is it a movie?" Rachel asked blankly.

"A TV show, only four seasons," Quinn teased, knowing that would get a reaction.

"Four seasons!" Rachel exclaimed. "That's not fair, that's much longer than a movie."

Quinn laughed. "It's not like we are going to watch it all tonight. I will just be using my night to watch episodes for the next few months. Besides have you forgotten that on our first movie night you picked Gone with the Wind."

"You said you weren't in the mood for a musical," Rachel insisted defiantly.

"It was like _four hours _long," Quinn replied.

"And the time just flew by."

"It really didn't," Quinn responded drily.

"Quinn!" Rachel gasped, scandalized. "Take that back! That movie is a classic. You seem to have a great disdain for classic Hollywood cinema. Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind; 1939 was an amazing year for movies."

"Four hours," Quinn insisted. She really hadn't minded the movie, but she found Rachel's impassioned defense of the film amusing and couldn't resist riling the other woman.

"Give me the remote," Rachel insisted, holding out her hand. "I am revoking your viewing selection privileges until you show the proper reverence."

Quinn held the remote over her head, and well out of Rachel's reach. "No way, that was not what we agreed upon."

"I am changing the terms of our agreement. I simply can't allow someone that can't see the majesty of Gone with the Wind to select what I am going to watch. You will probably end up picking something awful like…" Hoping to catch the blonde off guard Rachel suddenly lunged for the remote. Quinn was too quick however and quickly scooted off the couch, causing Rachel to face plant onto the cushion.

When Rachel raised her face out of the cushion to glare at Quinn the blonde waggled the remote control back and forth tauntingly. "You are going to have to be quicker than that. I have spent years chasing around Libby, my reflexes are honed to perfection."

Rachel simply glowered at the blonde. "I am not going to chase you around the apartment. I demand that you give me the remote." Quinn was sure the only thing preventing Rachel from stomping her foot was the fact that she was currently partly sprawled out across the couch.

Quinn laughed. "I will refer again to the fact that I have been dealing with Libby for years, I am impervious to tantrums and demands."

Rachel gasped, outraged. "Are you implying that I am in the midst of a tantrum?"

Quinn tilted her head to the side, giving Rachel an appraising look. "I'd give you a 3 out of 10 on the tantrum-o-meter."

"Quinn Fabray! I demand you give me that remote back!" Rachel sprang up from the couch, one hand planted firmly on her hip, the other outstretched, palm up.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. "If you want it you are going to have to come and get it," she goaded the brunette, once again waggling the remote back and forth.

Rachel narrowed her eyes and exhaled heavily through her nose. Quinn couldn't help but notice that Rachel was kinda hot when she was pissed. Her distraction almost cost her as Rachel lunged forward suddenly. Luckily she was able to react in time and danced backwards, once again out of the brunette's reach.

"Gonna have to be faster than that."

Rachel let out an aggravated growl, and stomped her foot, causing Quinn to smirk. She had so been right about the foot stomping. And the chase was on. Rachel would lunge; Quinn would dance backward, sometimes throwing in a laugh just to rile the other woman up. Quinn was so preoccupied with taunting the diva that she failed to notice that Rachel had effectively backed her down the short hallway leading to the front door.

When Quinn's back thudded against the solid surface Rachel crossed her arms across her chest and smirked at the blonde. "Nowhere to run to now blondie."

Quinn pursed her lips and looked at Rachel appraisingly. "You still have to get it from me shorty."

Rachel scoffed. "Please you are like 3 inches taller than me."

Quinn held out the remote, waving it slightly. "So close, yet so far." As Quinn had anticipated Rachel lunged forward so she quickly raised the remote over her head.

"Give it," Rachel demanded, jumping for the remote but missing.

Quinn laughed and shook her head. "Nope, you are going to have to work for it."

Rachel advanced on the blonde, eyes narrowed with determination. Realizing that she was never going to be able to reach the remote without assistance Rachel put her hand on Quinn's shoulder and tried to push off and gain a bit more height.

Instead of working as she had anticipated she instead just sent her body crashing awkwardly into Quinn's and the blonde's head hit the door with a crack. Rachel pulled back slightly, her brow creased with concern.

"Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded. "I'm great, the remote is still mine."

Realizing that if the blonde was well enough to taunt her then her concern was misplaced; Rachel once again lunged for the remote. When Quinn's head had rapped against the door she had lowered her arm to her side. Instead of raising it above her head again the blonde instead put her hand behind her back and effectively trapped the remote between her back and the door.

Rachel pressed close to the blonde and tried to wedge her hand between Quinn and the door. While Quinn would occasionally jerk suddenly she was not budging an inch.

"Just admit defeat," Quinn teased with a laugh.

"Never," Rachel cried vehemently. When she noticed Quinn jolt again when her hand brushed her side Rachel pulled back and gave the blonde a devious smirk. "Well, well, well. It looks like someone failed to take into account one fatal flaw in her plan."

Quinn quirked her brow in challenge. "Oh, and what would that be?"

"You're ticklish," Rachel said triumphantly.

Quinn swallowed, her eyes darting nervously. "No I'm not," she insisted. Which was a lie, she was, she so was.

"Oh I think you are. Let's just test that shall we?" Without further warning Rachel attacked. Quinn tried to brace for the assault but it was no use, within seconds the brunette's feather light touches along her side had her squirming and laughing.

"Give me the remote," Rachel insisted, mercilessly tickling Quinn's sides.

"Never," Quinn insisted through a breathless gasp. Rachel redoubled her efforts and Quinn jerked backwards, her elbow rapping sharply against the door. Quinn knew she could use her free arm to either try to protect her sides, or to try to stiff arm Rachel and keep her out of attack range. She tried to keep the brunette at bay but the other woman was like an eel, constantly evading her grasp.

Laughing maniacally Rachel continued to assault Quinn's vulnerable sides, causing the blonde to writhe and twist, constantly thumping into the door behind her. It was for this reason that it took the pair a moment to recognize that not all of the thumps on the door were coming from their side. When a muffled 'Hello?" was heard they both froze.

Rachel, who was still pressed flush against Quinn turned her head slightly to catch her gaze. "Do you think we were too loud? It could be one of the neighbors."

Quinn swallowed and licked her suddenly dry lips. Now that they had stopped goofing around Quinn was acutely aware of just how intimately Rachel was pressed against her. "Only one way to find out I suppose," Quinn replied when whomever was on the other side of the door knocked again.

"Oh right," Rachel said with a flush, pushing herself off the door and away from Quinn. No longer trapped against the door Quinn stepped past Rachel and ran a hand through her hair. She was sure that she looked completely disheveled. Quinn wanted nothing more than to retreat down the hallway, but if it was one of the neighbors she figured she owed it to Rachel to stay and face the music.

Rachel pulled the door open and came face to face with a man in his late 20s that she didn't recognize. She didn't really socialize with her neighbors however, so that didn't really help narrow it down for her. "Yes, may I help you?" Rachel inquired calmly.

Quinn was impressed by Rachel's impassive mask. She was acting as though everything were completely normal, and that the man standing in front of her hadn't just heard the two of the laughing madly and thudding into the door again and again. Quinn was blushing just thinking about what it must have sounded like from the other side.

"Quinn Fabray?" he questioned, looking directly at Rachel. Rachel shook her head. "Is Ms. Fabray here?"

Quinn, who had been standing slightly out of sight, stepped into view. "I'm Quinn."

The man quickly reached forward and handed Quinn a sheaf of paper. "Sign here please." He tilted the clipboard he had been holding towards the blonde. Quinn automatically reached for the attached pen but hesitated before signing her name.

"What is this for?" Quinn questioned, the pen poised above the paper.

"Not sure, I'm just paid to make sure the papers get delivered."

Rachel stepped forward and placed a hand on Quinn's back, between her shoulders. She suspected she knew exactly what this was about. "Are you a process server?" Rachel asked the man flatly.

He met her eyes briefly before nodding. "I am."

"Go ahead and sign Quinn." Quinn flicked her gaze to Rachel, seeing the warm reassurance in the other woman's gaze she nodded before quickly scrawling her signature in the designated spot.

"Have a good evening," the man offered before turning to leave. Quinn barely resisted the urge to tell him to go screw himself. She had been dreading this ever since she had returned from Ohio with Libby, but it wasn't fair to take out her anger at the situation on the messenger, he was just doing his job.

Quinn turned away from the door looking blankly down at the papers in front of her. She had been waiting for this, for the other shoe to drop. Leroy had informed her that since her parents were the ones initiating the action there was really not much that Quinn could do proactively. They weren't on the offensive in this case; they had to sit back and wait for her parents to make their next move before they could mount their defense. While Quinn could understand the logic behind it, the waiting game had been slowly driving her insane. Never knowing when the next hit was coming. Well it had finally arrived, and it was a knockout punch.

"What does it say?" Rachel asked, settling herself next to Quinn on the couch. Quinn continued to stare blankly at the documents in her hands and Rachel laid a hand on Quinn's forearm to get her attention. "Quinn?"

"What?" Seeing the dazed expression on the blonde's face Rachel realized she would have to repeat her query.

"The summons, what does it say?"

"They want her," Quinn responded, her voice void of any emotion.

Rachel frowned. "Like for another visit?"

"Like permanently." Quinn turned to look at Rachel, and the brunette flinched at the lack of emotion she saw in her eyes. "They're suing for full custody."

Rachel opened her mouth to respond but found herself oddly speechless. Really what do you say to someone when their worst fear seemed to be coming true? "I'm sure it will be fine," Rachel tried to reassure Quinn, finally finding her voice.

"Fine?" Quinn asked sharply, showing real emotion for the first time since receiving the papers she was currently clutching in a tight first. "How is this going to be fine Rachel? My parents are suing me for custody of my daughter, tell me how that is going to be fine? The judge already awarded them a month long visitation, and everyone assured me that would never happen. So please, tell me, what is going to make this fine?"

Apparently that was not the thing to say. Rachel cleared her throat, trying to buy time since she was honestly stunned by the blonde's angry outburst. Outside of that initial, emotionally charged morning in Las Vegas Quinn had always been fairly calm and reserved, rarely showing such overt emotion.

"Well you have my Daddy on your side now," Rachel said soothingly.

Instead of having the intended effect it seemed to irritate the blonde even more. "Like that has proven useful so far," Quinn scoffed. "All he has done so far is tell me to sit and wait. Well I did that, and look how well that turned out. You're _daddy _can barely stand me, a point that he has made more than evident," Quinn insisted bitterly.

"That's not fair, Daddy explained to you why we couldn't really do anything yet, and he has been warming up to you."

Quinn laughed humorlessly. "Oh it's not fair? What about any of this is fair? And _'we' _aren't going to be doing anything." Quinn put special emphasis on the word 'we', her voice dripping with derision. "There is no 'we', it's just me. It was my job to make sure that my parent's didn't get anywhere near Libby again, and instead of doing something I listened to your father and now they are coming after her." Quinn stood up and glared down at the now speechless brunette. "You'll have to forgive me if I am not feeling particularly _fair._"

Quinn turned and executed a storm out that would have made her teenage self proud, leaving Rachel to sit on the couch in stunned disbelief. The mood of the evening had shifted so suddenly that Rachel felt like she was suffering from emotional whiplash; from playful teasing to caustic anger in the blink of an eye.

After a few moments Rachel was able to gain her wits about her and went in search of her phone. She had a call to make.

* * *

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Quinn looked toward her bedroom door with a grimace, willing Rachel to just leave her alone. She had retreated to her room in an angry huff almost thirty minutes ago. The anger had long since dissipated, to be replaced by a burning sense of shame. Rachel had already tried once before to get her attention but Quinn was too embarrassed to face the other woman. She was hoping that if she continued to ignore the summons at the door then Rachel would once again leave her to hide and suffer in silence.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Quinn? Are you awake?" Quinn sighed at the muffled question; it appeared that the brunette was not going to give up as easily this time.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Quinn?"

Quinn dragged her hand roughly through her hair and pushed herself up and off the bed. She walked to the door and rested her forehead against the smooth wooden surface.

"Rachel I'm really tired. Can we just talk about it tomorrow?" Quinn knew she owed Rachel an apology. She had only been trying to help and Quinn had allowed panic and fear to take over, leading her to snap at the other woman. Quinn just wanted a little more time to lick her wounds in private, and hopefully gain control of the reflexive panic that caused her to snap in the first place.

"Well we could….but my Daddy would really like to speak with you."

"Is he on the phone?" Quinn asked, holding onto a small shred of hope.

"He's in the living room." Quinn swallowed thickly her mouth suddenly dry, all hope now gone.

Quinn could only imagine what Rachel had told her father to get him here so quickly. Most likely a horror story about how crazy and mean Quinn was being to her when all she had been trying to do was help. Quinn heaved a heavy sigh and pushed herself off the door. She might be able to persuade herself that delaying her talk with Rachel was okay, but she couldn't ignore Leroy.

When Quinn opened the bedroom door she was met by Rachel's concerned face, which only served to make her feel worse. She had been an absolute bitch to Rachel, and instead of being annoyed the other woman was still worried about how she was doing.

Rachel bit her lip, not at all sure about the reception to expect from Quinn. "I hope you aren't mad. I just thought that talking to my Daddy about it would help alleviate some of the concerns you're having."

Quinn shook her head. "It's fine. I'm sorry I didn't answer your earlier knocks, I was just embarrassed and wanted to put off facing you until tomorrow. On top of everything else I didn't intend to keep your dad waiting."

"You didn't, Daddy just got here. I was trying earlier to ask if you wanted him to come over and talk about where we...I mean you, stand with this latest action from your parents. When you didn't respond I figured I'd just call him anyway. You seemed really upset and I just wanted you to have whatever peace of mind he can offer."

Quinn let out a short, humorless laugh. "As if I didn't already feel like a huge ass."

Rachel furrowed her brow in confusion. "I don't understand."

"I was a complete bitch to you, and you were only trying to help, and instead of ordering me to pack my bags and kicking me out, you instead...try to just help me more."

"Quinn I didn't do it to make you feel badly," Rachel insisted.

Quinn nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement. "I know. That's what makes it worse." Seeing Rachel's distress Quinn hurried to clarify. "Rachel you didn't do anything wrong, this isn't a dig at you." Quinn sighed, scrubbing a hand through her hair roughly. Frustrated with herself for not even being able to apologize properly. "What I am trying to say, badly it seems, is that I'm really sorry about how I acted. I know you were just trying to help, and you didn't deserve that from me. I really appreciate everything you, and your dad, are doing for me, even if my earlier outburst would seem to indicate otherwise."

Rachel looked at Quinn sympathetically, hesitantly laying a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "Apology accepted." Rachel shook her head. "I can't even begin to comprehend what this must be like for you, I mean I have only known you and Libby for a few months and it makes me angry as hell, so I think you can get a bit of a pass for your reaction." Rachel squeezed the blonde's shoulder gently, her thumb caressing back and forth unconsciously. "So don't give it another thought. Now, c'mon, let's go talk to my dad, before he sends out a search party, and hopefully put some of your fears to rest."

Quinn nodded her head gratefully and trailed after Rachel. She was grateful that the other woman had so readily accepted her apology, but part of her felt almost guilty that the brunette hadn't made it a little bit harder on her. She would have to find a way to make it up to Rachel. Even if Rachel didn't think so, Quinn knew she had some groveling to do.

Entering the living room Quinn saw the ever intimidating Mr. Berry sitting on the couch, and scanning a crumpled set of papers. Quinn flushed in embarrassment when she saw the mangled documents. She couldn't remember discarding the papers, but their presence told her she must have thrown them down when she stormed out. Hearing the two women enter the room Leroy raised his head and met Quinn's gaze.

She wasn't sure exactly what she had been expecting; a look of censure, annoyance at being disturbed on a Friday evening, impatience at having to go over this _again_ with Quinn. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't the look of warm compassion Rachel's father was currently sending her way.

When Rachel saw that Quinn was basically frozen in place she grabbed the blonde's hand and led her over to the couch. Once there, she pushed Quinn down beside her father and settled herself on the other side of blonde, effectively trapping the other woman in place.  
Quinn darted her gaze to the papers still held in Leroy's hands. "Well?" It was only one word, but that was really all that was needed to convey the tumult that was swarming through Quinn's mind. In a move that surprised Quinn once more that night, Leroy wrapped his arm comfortingly around the blonde's shoulders. The blonde felt a warm swell of emotion fill her chest at the action and her throat constricted.

"This is actually good news." When Quinn shot him a blatantly dubious look he chuckled softly, which did nothing to ease the blonde's fears. "It is," he insisted, reassuringly. "Like I explained before, we are really playing defense in this case. Until your parent's let us know their next move there wasn't much for us to do. Now that they have shown their hand I can finally formulate a plan of attack." A predatory glint entered Leroy's gaze that made Quinn glad the formidable man was on her side.

"So what are we going to do?" Quinn asked. The tension and worry was making her feel like she was jumping out of her skin, and her knee bounced nervously.

"Well the first thing you are going to do is take a deep breath and stop worrying about this." Leroy laughed once again when the blonde sent him another look that clearly said she thought he was out of his mind. "Quinn, I have been doing this a long time, and I am very good at my job, trust me when I say that there is exactly no chance of them succeeding in this petition."

Rachel rested a hand on the blonde's bobbing knee, partly to stop the incessant motion, and partly to offer what small comfort she could. At the touch Quinn diverted her gaze to Rachel. Rachel rubbed the blonde's knee soothingly. "He really is very good at his job." Rachel rolled her eyes playfully. "I should know, he bragged about if often enough whenever he won a case. Which was a lot."

Quinn appreciated the attempt, but really, it did nothing to quell her worry. Platitudes were fine but she needed facts. "Yeah but what if they..."

Leroy held up his hand to stall the blonde's line of questioning before she could get started. "Do you neglect Libby?"

Quinn's mouth dropped open in outrage, and she made to stand up, but Rachel's hand and Leroy's arm, still wrapped firmly around her shoulders, kept her firmly in place.

"No," she bit out tersely, clenching her jaw in anger.

"Do you abuse her?" Leroy asked mildly, his eyebrow quirked.

Quinn shot him a murderous look, her earlier affection towards the man rapidly evaporating. This was the Leroy Berry she had been expecting. "No," she ground out through gritted teeth.

"Then you have literally nothing to worry about," Leroy assured her. "No judge is ever going to allow a child to be removed from her mother unless there is a clear and compelling situation of abuse and or neglect. None of those things are true here, and your parents are just wasting everyone's time. Libby is not going anywhere."

"That's what the last guy said about the visitation, and look how that turned out," Quinn insisted bitterly.

"The last guy was an idiot who clearly didn't know what the hell he was doing, there is no way that should have been granted. Grandparent visitation rights are rarely enforced, and usually only in cases where they have had a prolonged involvement in the child's life, and it is deemed in the best interests of the child to maintain that link." Leroy narrowed his gaze. "Something isn't right about that situation and I fully intend to find out just how that happened." Leroy tightened his grip, giving Quinn a one armed hug. "She's not going anywhere again Quinn. We Berrys take family seriously, and I will personally put the three of you on a plane for an extended vacation myself before I allow them to take Libby again." Quinn looked at the man to see if he was joking, but he looked deadly serious.

"Daddy!" Rachel cried. "You're a lawyer, you are supposed to uphold the law."

Leroy looked at his scandalized daughter and shrugged. "There is nothing illegal about taking a vacation."

Leroy sent a slight wink in Quinn's direction, letting her know that he was just trying to rile his daughter and perhaps lighten the mood a little. Beneath the joking however Quinn also received the intended message; that he would do anything and everything in his power to make sure Libby stayed with Quinn.

Quinn once again felt her throat tighten with unshed tears. She had never had this type of unconditional support. Her parents had always attached strings, and even then, she had rarely felt like they had her back.

Quinn cleared her throat. "I'm sorry you had to come deal with my epic freak out. It's just that I had half convinced myself that my parents were just going to let it go, so when I opened that envelope and saw that they were seeking custody I just kinda lost it." Quinn gave a half laugh. "Just ask your poor daughter."

"I told you it was fine Quinn," Rachel answered reassuringly, patting Quinn's knee comfortingly. "Besides Daddy was happy to come over."

Leroy nodded his head. "Yup. I was just waiting by the phone with nothing better to do on a Friday night." Rachel shot a narrowed eyed look at her father, not wanting his sarcastic quips to be taken the wrong way by the emotionally raw Quinn.

Quinn caught the glare Rachel shot her dad and bit her lip to keep a smile from her face. Quinn knew that Rachel was being protective of Quinn, or at the very least, trying to prevent Quinn from having another mini meltdown over the wrong turn of phrase. But she had spent enough time around Rachel's dad by now to know that the man was almost instinctively glib, and if he was trading barbs with you, he likely wasn't too angry.

"I really do appreciate it," Quinn told Leroy seriously. "It means more to me than I can say that you are doing this for me Mr. Berry."

Leroy looked at Quinn for a long moment, his expression suddenly devoid of all humor. "Call me Leroy."


	13. Chapter 13- Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

AN: For once, as promised, here is an update kinda when I said it would be. Although that is probably not something you should get used to :P

* * *

Chapter 13 - Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

"Are you sure you're okay with this? Because if you aren't it's fine. I'm sure I can come up with some excuse for why we can't make it. Libby has only just started to settle in, taking her away from familiar surroundings can't be good for her. My fathers would totally understand."

Quinn shot Rachel and exasperated looked, and threw a pair of sweatpants into the open suitcase resting on her bed.

"Rachel it's fine, besides it's not exactly the first time we have shared a bed." Rachel's family was expecting the three of them to attend Thanksgiving at the Berry family home on Long Island. It was a tradition that had apparently slipped Rachel's mind, until her father's had reminded her to find out if Santana would be joining them again this year.

The issue that Rachel was having was that the two of them would obviously be expected to share living quarters for the duration of the long weekend, and she was worried that Quinn wasn't as fine with it as she claimed.

For her part Quinn didn't want to raise any more suspicions with Rachel's parents then they already may have. Besides, Rachel and her family had been so supportive, she didn't want Rachel to miss out on a family holiday on her account. She was fine with the arrangement. Mostly.

"True," Rachel finally conceded, "but it's not exactly like we remember it either."

Which wasn't entirely true, at least not for Quinn. She didn't actually remember the night they had spent together, but she would occasionally get flashes of what she could only assume were snippets of memory from that night. A quick flash of what Rachel looked like pushed up against the door, her head thrown back, neck arched. What the skin of Rachel's taut stomach felt like under her lips, warm, and satiny soft.

If they weren't memories, the only other explanation is that they were fantasies, so Quinn was really hoping they were memories. Memories were bad enough, but if they were fantasies it added a whole new host of complications to this situation that she just didn't need.

This arrangement that she and Rachel had made was too important for Quinn to screw it up with personal feelings. She needed to keep this strictly professional, for her sake, and more importantly, for Libby's. There was just so much riding on it.

Quinn took one final look at her suitcase to make sure she had packed everything before finally closing the lid. If she was missing anything at this point she would just have to make do, she didn't have room for anything else. Packing complete, she turned her full attention to Rachel.

"Seriously Rachel, it's fine. It will be good to get out of the city, your parents place sounds amazing, and I can't wait to show Libby the ocean." Quinn sent Rachel a reassuring smile. "Would you feel comfortable sharing a bed with Santana?" Even as she asked the question Quinn felt a funny little clutch in her stomach, but she brushed it off.

Rachel furrowed her brow and bit her lip, contemplating the question, before finally shaking her head no. "Not really."

It was Quinn's turn to frown. "What? Why not?"

Rachel's lips turned up in a teasing smirk. "She kicks, and hogs the covers. Also, she snores."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "My point, is that you wouldn't feel weird sharing a bed with a friend right?"

"Correct," Rachel agreed with a nod.

"Well this is the same thing. Just two friends sharing a bed for the weekend."

Rachel regarded Quinn silently for a few moments before nodding her head. "Right. Just two friends sharing a bed." Rachel clapped her hands together, signaling the end of the conversation. "Are you all packed?"

Quinn looked at the stuffed suitcase and nodded her head. "I am, I couldn't fit another thing if I tried." Quinn glanced at her watch. "We just have to wait, probably another 30 minutes, for Libby to wake up from her nap and we should be good to go. They already delivered the car?"

Rachel nodded. "They dropped it off at noon, and I had the front desk confirm that the car seat was there and properly installed before I let them leave." Rachel had originally wanted to hire a car service to drive them to her parents' house for the weekend, but Quinn had told her that was ridiculous. It would be much cheaper to just rent a car, Quinn was perfectly capable of driving them. They weren't going to be in the city, with easy access to public transportation, so if Quinn had to run out and pick something up, she wanted the option of having a car ready. While she and Rachel's dads had grown more friendly, she really didn't feel comfortable asking for the keys to their car.

Quinn nodded her head in understanding. "Should we pack this stuff now? If you wouldn't mind keeping an ear out for Libby I can start loading the car," Quinn offered. She had apologized a few more times in the week since her blow up, but when she started to see the brunette's annoyance with her constant apologies, she decided to switch to just doing things to make up for her behavior.

"Don't be silly Quinn, if you are all packed I will just call down to the front desk and have them send someone up to carry the bags down," Rachel insisted with a chuckle, backing out of the room to go make the call.

Quinn somehow kept forgetting just how well off Rachel was, and that for most things Quinn was used to doing on her own, Rachel had a 'person' for. "Right, I don't know what I was thinking," Quinn mused quietly as she watched Rachel leave.

* * *

"Sing it again, sing it again!" Libby demanded, kicking her feet excitedly.

Before Rachel could obligingly launch into what Quinn was sure would be the five hundred and twentieth chorus of _One Jump Ahead_, Quinn interrupted. Quinn had finally managed to wean Libby off of _The Wizard of Oz_, unfortunately she seemed to have transferred her obsession to _Aladdin. _

"Why don't you pick another song, I am sure Rachel is sick of singing that one by now," Quinn suggested, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. It wasn't that Rachel's voice was bad, far from it in fact, but Quinn could only listen to the same song so many times before she lost her mind.

"Oh really I don't..." Rachel started to reply, only to cut herself short when Quinn sent her a sideways look-of-death, which promised much pain and suffering if she launched into that song one more time. "...or...I could sing something else. My repertoire really is quite extensive. Do you have any requests?" Rachel directed the question to Quinn, figuring it was better to be safe than sorry.

"I don't suppose you know _Ain't No Mountain High Enough_ from _Sister Act 2_. It was a favorite of mine growing up."

Rachel scoffed and sent Quinn a scandalized look. "Of course I do. Really Quinn. It was only made famous by Marvin Gaye." Shaking her head, Rachel looked into the backseat and sent Libby a disbelieving look. "Can you believe how silly your Mom is?" Rachel asked the toddler with a serious look. Libby widened her eyes, and solemnly shook her head. "Well she is." Rachel huffed playfully. "I mean to think that I wouldn't know such a classic song. I do know more than musicals and Broadway Quinn."

"Rachel," Quinn interrupted, "I think you are wandering a bit off track." Quinn had spent enough time around the other woman to know that if you didn't catch her early on one of her tangents she could go on for quite a while. It was actually something Quinn normally found quite endearing, but she didn't want to risk Libby going into meltdown mode in the car if she didn't get another song.

"Right, sorry." Rachel sent a sheepish smile towards Quinn in silent apology. Quinn smiled back, letting her know that she wasn't mad. "Well since you said it was one of your favorites I think you should join me."

"Oh I don't think so," Quinn quickly declined. "The last thing you want to hear is my less than professional attempts at singing."

Ignoring Quinn's protest, Rachel once again turned to look at Libby. "What do you think Libby? Do you want your Mommy to sing with me?"

"Yes!" Libby yelled excitedly. "Mommy you sing too." Quinn knew she was trapped. If she refused Libby would keep insisting.

Quinn shot Rachel another sideways look. "Just remember you brought this on yourself."

Rachel laughed delightedly, and clapped her hands. "Nonsense. I am sure you are selling yourself short."

Rachel performed a few of what Quinn could only assume were vocal exercises before launching into the familiar song. Quinn remained silent until Rachel reached over and poked her firmly in the stomach, letting her know that she wasn't going to be able to weasel out of this.

Quinn reluctantly joined her voice with Rachel's, knowing that she didn't have near the vocal talent that the brunette possessed. After a few stumbles in the beginning, and who could blame her, she was pretty sure the last time she had sung more than a lullaby for Libby, she had still been in high school, Quinn was actually quite surprised by how well their voices blended together.

When the song concluded Libby, and to Quinn's embarrassment, Rachel, started clapping.

"I think your Mommy has been holding out on us Libby," Rachel teased, causing Quinn to flush. "Did you know you're Mommy could sing so well?"

Libby nodded her head emphatically. "Uh huh, Mommy always singed me My Song."

"She did huh?" Rachel cut her gaze to Quinn, but decided to cut the blushing woman a break and turned her attention back to Libby. "Any other requests? I think we have about another half-hour before we get to my Dads'." The last was said more for Quinn's benefit.

"Ding Dong!" Libby squealed excitedly. Quinn bit back a groan but decided to just let it go. At least it wasn't _One Jump Ahead_ again.

* * *

"Take a left here, and then it's the third house on the left," Rachel instructed the blond, leaning forward a bit in her seat.

Quinn kept her eyes firmly on the road, but darted her gaze from side to side to try to take in all of her surroundings. She wasn't sure exactly what she had been expecting from Rachel's dads house on Long Island, a sprawling, palatial estate, like those found in the Hamptons maybe, but it wasn't this decidedly normal looking neighborhood she found herself winding her way through.

The streets were narrow, the lots were densely wooded, affording the fairly closely built houses some semblance of privacy. If not for the fact that she knew she was a mere hundred years from the ocean, the neighborhood could pass for any sleepy middle American town. After being exposed to Rachel's apartment, and then her father's, Quinn had definitely been expecting something grander.

Quinn almost missed the driveway, the entrance only a narrow path in a thick growth of trees, but Rachel pointed it out at the last second. Steering the car confidently down the track, Quinn chanced a quick glance into the rear view mirror to see how Libby was doing. A small smile appeared on her lips when she saw Libby peering intently out the window, trying to take it all in.

Libby had grown up in the city, and besides her trip to Ohio, the most forest like environment she had ever experienced was Central Park. Knowing her parents as she did, Quinn highly doubted Libby's "visit" had included much outdoor activity. More than likely, they had kept the small girl confined inside trying to make up for Quinn's lack of "good Christian instruction", Quinn thought, her hands tightening firmly on the steering wheel.

"Hey are you okay?" Rachel asked in concern, seeing the bunching of the blonde's jaw, and her white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

Quinn shook off her black thoughts, and turned to give Rachel a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Fine. Just got lost in thought for a second. So this is it huh?" Quinn asked, indicating the house as she pulled the car to a stop and put it in park.

Rachel looked like she wanted to dig a bit more, but instead nodded her head. "This is it." She cut her gaze sideways to Quinn with a playful smile. "Not quite what you were expecting?" Rachel was used to people's reaction to her family's beach house.

They all expected the Berrys to have some grand mansion, where they could host parties to wine and dine New York's moneyed elite, but the beach house had never been that. It had always been their retreat from the city, and the expectations that came with the kind of wealth they had. It was their retreat, their sanctuary, a place they could just be.

Quinn shot Rachel a sheepish look. "Not really, no." Quinn turned back to the house. "It's great."

"Wanna get out," Libby demanded from the backseat, her patience for being in the car at an end. The trip had only taken a little over two hours, they had timed their departure well and missed any major traffic coming out of the city, but two hours in a car could still seem like an eternity to an energetic three-year-old.

Quinn unbuckled herself and stepped out of the car. As she was reaching in to free Libby from her car seat she heard the door of the house open behind her. Lifting Libby clear, Quinn turned with her daughter in her arms to see Leroy wrapping Rachel in a bear hug, Hiram standing slightly behind his husband to wait his turn.

Making her way slowly toward the trio, Quinn maintained her hold on Libby. She had felt her daughter tighten her arms around her neck when she spotted the two men. She leaned in to whisper softly into Libby's ear. "You remember Rachel's dads don't you? They gave you that nice book, and ...Grandpa Hiram read it to you?" Quinn stumbled only slightly over the grandfather designation.

Libby nodded her head softly in response. She had fallen in love with the book Rachel's dads had brought her, and she was more possessive of it than even her birthday gifts. She had made sure that Quinn packed it, insisting on checking the suitcase herself before allowing them to leave.

"Well you don't need to be afraid. They aren't going to hurt you." The reunion between Rachel and her dads now done, the group turned to welcome Quinn and Libby. Quinn was thankful for Hiram and Leroy's perception of the situation, neither man rushing to greet her and Libby.

"Well hello again Ms. Libby," Leroy greeted the small girl warmly. "Rachel was just telling us that you had quite the sing-a-long in the car. Was she as loud as I remember?" The large man widened his eyes in a playfully exaggerated manner, eliciting a giggle from Libby.

"Louder," Libby insisted, swinging her legs.

"Louder?" Leroy questioned dubiously, hands on his hips and head tilted. "Are you sure about that, because I am not sure that is humanely possible."

"Hey!" Rachel cried indignantly, her outrage betrayed by the smile gracing her lips. "You weren't complaining in the car!" She approached, and poked Libby playfully in the belly, causing the small girl to giggle.

"You loud," Libby insisted, eyes wide, expression earnest.

Rachel narrowed her eyes and reached out to take the girl from Quinn's grasp. Quinn was startled by the move, but released her grip when she saw Libby reach out for Rachel. Quinn had known the pair was getting along much better, but she hadn't expected Libby to relinquish her hold in such strange surroundings.

"I'm loud am I?" Rachel asked, twirling Libby and herself around in a circle a few times before setting the small girl down on the ground. "I'll have to remember that the next time you ask me to sing you a song," Rachel said with a sniff, crossing her arms and turning her back to Libby.

Libby reached out and tugged on Rachel's arm, urging the taller brunette to turn around and face her. With seeming reluctance Rachel did so, and looked down at the small girl with a stoic expression. "You not loud," Libby insisted, earning a loud snort from Leroy, which earned him a squinty eyed glare from his daughter. "You still sing me songs?" Libby asked, a real trace of worry in her voice.

Faced with a genuine look of worry from the small girl, Rachel's façade crumbled and she knelt down so she was eye level. "Of course I will still sing you songs. Anytime you want." Rachel glared playfully at her dad. "At least _someone_ appreciates my vocal talents."

Leroy rolled his eyes at his daughter's barb and turned to Quinn with a sympathetic look. "So how was the ride?"

"Loud," Quinn quipped, her eyes twinkling in amusement at Leroy when the anticipated gasp came from Rachel.

"How about we move this inside. You girls must be in need of some refreshment after your car trip," Hiram insisted. He turned to face his husband. "Why don't you bring in the girls luggage, and put it in their room for them."

"Yes dear."

* * *

"How are you guys doing?" Hiram asked Rachel. The pair was alone in the kitchen, Leroy had dragged Quinn and Libby on a tour of Chez Berry, figuring some running around and exploring would be a good way to burn some energy off the toddler.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked quickly, her gaze darting to her father. She didn't think she and Quinn had done anything to indicate that they were having problems, and if they had, she wanted to be sure to correct it.

Hiram took a sip of his coffee and stared at his daughter pointedly over the rim. "I know we haven't really touched base this week, but your Daddy told me about the petition Quinn's parents filed." Hiram furrowed his eyebrows. "Lawyer-client confidentiality aside, you didn't really think your Dad wouldn't tell me about that did you?"

Rachel swallowed a sigh of relief, and then immediately felt badly about it. She was glad that her and Quinn's deception still seemed to be in place, but she just didn't feel right feeling anything close to relief when thinking about Quinn's parents lawsuit.

"I figured he would tell you," Rachel replied. "We have just been trying not to think about it too much." She shrugged. "Daddy has insisted we don't have anything to worry about, and we are trying to just hold on to that, and trust that Daddy is right."

Hiram chuckled. "Don't you know by now that your Daddy is always right?"

"Of course," Rachel responded. "Except for when he disagrees with me, that is."

Hiram shook his head, well used to the playful game of one-upmanship his daughter and husband constantly engaged in. He took another sip of his coffee. "So, Santana is bringing a guest?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance. "So she claims, though she refuses to tell me who." A fact that had driven Rachel quite crazy.

It wasn't unusual for Santana to join the Berry family Thanksgiving celebration since her family wasn't really big on the holiday. The larger reason though, and one that Santana would never admit, was that her family wasn't terribly accepting of her "lifestyle choices," so she had been a regular fixture at quite a few Berry family holiday's for as long as Rachel could remember. One thing that had never wavered was that Santana had never brought a guest. Never. Not once.

When Rachel had confirmed with her friend that she would be joining them for the weekend, she had been rendered speechless when the Latina had asked if it was okay to bring a guest. Rachel had finally gathered her wits enough to tell her that yes, of course, that would be fine. No matter how much she had wheedled though, Santana had refused to tell her who she was bringing.

The refusal made no sense to Rachel, why would Santana want to keep that information from her. The only thing that Rachel could think was that Santana was afraid that if Rachel knew who, she would rescind the invitation. There was only one person that Rachel would refuse entry to her family home, and there was no way Santana would be that insane. No one hated Jesse more than Santana, not even Rachel, and she had every right to.

Hiram sent his daughter a puzzled look. "Very odd, but I gave up trying to figure that girl out years ago." Hiram shook his head. "Did she say when they would be arriving?"

Rachel made her way over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. Taking a sip of the steaming brew she shrugged. "Nothing specific, just that she would get here tomorrow sometime. I offered to have her and her 'friend' drive out with us today, but she said that wasn't going to work and they would just head up on Thanksgiving."

"Well you know how much she loves Leroy's turkey, so I am sure she will arrive plenty early. She wouldn't want to risk missing that."

Rachel laughed. "Heaven forbid. I remember one year she wasn't able to make it, and I forgot to bring her the leftovers I promised." Rachel rolled her eyes dramatically. "God I never thought I would hear the end of it, you would think I had forgotten her first born child on the subway."

"Sounds serious," Quinn interjected, entering the room. When father and daughter turned to look at her Quinn paused. "Sorry am I interrupting? Leroy absconded with Libby to go hunt up some of Rachel's old toys and ordered me to go relax."

Hiram shook his head and smiled warmly at his daughter-in-law. "Not at all, we were just discussing Santana, her guest, and her unnatural attachment to my husband's turkey." Hiram paused. "Santana that is, not her guest, as we still don't know who that is."

Quinn arched an eyebrow and cut a glance at Rachel. "Yes, I'm aware."

"I don't know why she won't just tell me," Rachel whined. "I mean it's _my _house..." Hiram cleared his throat delicately. "...my fathers' house," Rachel corrected with a slight eye roll. "I think she just did it to drive me crazy."

"Which clearly worked," Quinn joked, sharing a smile with Hiram. Hiram offered Quinn a cup of coffee, which she accepted gratefully.

"I just don't know why she is being so difficult about this," Rachel grumbled. "We're best friends, we are _supposed_ to tell each other everything. I haven't heard a _peep_, not a single word, about her dating anyone." Rachel scoffed softly to herself. "I mean as if you can even call what Santana does dating, and now out of the blue she is inviting someone home for the holidays? It just doesn't make any sense," Rachel fumed in frustration.

Hiram walked over and patted his daughter comfortingly on the shoulder. "Well you will find out soon enough." He glanced at the wall clock, noting that it was slightly after 5 o'clock. "Why don't you two take a chance to settle in while your Daddy has Libby occupied, and I will finish getting dinner ready."

"Do you want any help?" Quinn was quick to offer.

Hiram waved off her offer with a smile. "I'm fine. You two go on. Unpack, decompress, take a chance to freshen up.

Quinn looked uncertain. "If you're sure?" Hiram nodded and before she could say anything else she found herself being dragged out of the kitchen by Rachel.

"C'mon, it's not often I get to escape chore duty, and I am not going to waste the opportunity just because you have some misplaced sense of responsibility. Dad has this under control."

Rachel led Quinn through the downstairs, heading towards the stairwell to the second floor, where all the bedrooms were located. "So Daddy gave you the 'grand' tour?" She glanced at the blonde, curious to see how Quinn was settling in. The blonde seemed to be fairly at ease, which was a marked contrast to the memory Rachel had of their first visit to her fathers' apartment.

Quinn nodded. "He did." Quinn looked around the cozy living room as they passed through. "This place is really great. I was half afraid I was going to have to spend the entire weekend chasing after Libby to make sure she didn't destroy something worth more than I make in a year." Rachel knew the statement was intended as a joke, but she could hear the thread of truth in Quinn's quip.

"Remind me to have Daddy tell you about the time I decided to 'decorate' their newly acquired Piet Mondrian." At Quinn's blank look Rachel merely smiled. "Just ask him."

As Rachel reached the top of the stairs, she realized she was still holding Quinn's hand and released her hold. "So did you get the upstairs tour as well?" Rachel asked, trying to act casual, not wanting to let the blonde know that she was flustered. Quinn didn't seem fazed by the fact that Rachel had held onto her hand longer than necessary, so Rachel wasn't sure why she was letting it bother her so much. Actually that wasn't entirely accurate. Rachel had a faint, nascent idea as to why it was bothering her, she just didn't want to admit it, even just to herself.

Quinn shook her head. "No, your dad showed us around downstairs and outside. I think he just wanted to give Libby a chance to run around a bit after being cooped up in the car." Quinn looked around curiously, before looking back to Rachel, waiting for the brunette to lead on.

"Right," Rachel jumped slightly, realizing that Quinn was probably expecting her to do something besides stand there stupidly with her mouth agape. "Well as you can see," Rachel said, spreading her arms wide to encompass the hallway and the doors leading to the bedrooms, "this is where the bedrooms are." Rachel started to walk down the hallway, Quinn trailing closely behind.

Rachel indicated the first door on the right. "Libby's room." Rachel pushed the door wide, allowing Quinn to poke her head into the room. Quinn took in the simple, yet tastefully decorated room with a nod, noticing Libby's small backpack in the center of the bed.

Rachel continued to the next door. "Bathroom." A few more steps. "The bedroom we will be staying in." She couldn't bring herself to call it 'our bedroom', it seemed far too intimate. "The bathroom has a door off the hallway, which you saw, but each bedroom also has a connecting door. Which we can leave open if you think it will make it easier for Libby." Dad and Daddy's bedroom is at the end of the hall, and has its own bathroom. And that is where Santana and her guest will be staying," Rachel indicated the fifth and final door. "Well that's all of it," Rachel said, turning to face Quinn and take in her reaction.

The blonde nodded her head thoughtfully. "It's really nice Rachel."

"Well I could live without the having to share a bathroom with Santana," Rachel joked.

Quinn hummed her agreement, not exactly looking forward to spending the weekend in close proximity to the fiery Latina. The two had reached a truce of sorts, but Quinn was still distrustful of her intentions towards Brittany. Learning that she was apparently serious enough about someone else to bring her to 'meet the family' did nothing to quell that mistrust.

"So this is us?" Quinn asked, approaching the bedroom door that Rachel had indicated as theirs.

Rachel licked her suddenly dry lips and nodded her head. "Yup." Stepping forward Rachel pushed the door open and walked into the room. Rachel eyed the familiar room with a new eye. Was it her imagination of was the bed smaller than she remembered. In fact everything about the room seemed smaller, more intimate.

"Was this your room growing up?" Quinn asked curiously.

Pulled from her mental sizing up of the space it took a moment for Rachel to respond. "What? Oh, no. When I was younger I stayed in Libby's room. The two larger rooms were reserved for guests, but when I turned...16?...I insisted that they let me move to one of the larger rooms. The room across the hall doesn't have its own bathroom so the choice was easy," Rachel confided with a grin.

Quinn walked across the room to gaze out the window. The view of the beach was mostly blocked by the thick copse of trees, but she was just able to make out a tiny sliver of ocean. Rachel stood by the bed, silently, her hands clasped behind her back, fingers fiddling nervously.

She cursed her sudden awkwardness around the blonde. They had been getting along so well, able to joke around and be at ease with each other, like real friends. Last week, after Quinn had gotten the summons, had been a bit of a rough patch, but Quinn had apologized, even though Rachel didn't think she had anything to apologize for, and they had settled back into their easy rhythm. Their relationship had come a long way since that first rocky morning in Vegas. However, Rachel's little 'problem', and their forced proximity this weekend, was threatening to undermine all of that progress.

Rachel let out a heavy sigh, causing Quinn to turn and look at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

Rachel was quick to nod. "Yeah, sorry. I think I'm just tired and a bit hungry." The pair had skipped lunch, too busy with packing and getting ready to leave to take the time to eat.

Quinn looked at the suitcases, still packed, sitting by the bed. "Why don't you head down and get yourself something to eat. I can unpack if you want."

"Don't be silly Quinn, I can't ask you to unpack my stuff." More to the point Rachel wasn't sure she was at all comfortable with the idea of Quinn handling all her clothes and...other things. "Dad said it would be a little while anyway, I'm sure by the time we put this stuff away dinner will be ready."

Quinn looked uncertain, but finally nodded her head. "I'm going to go unpack Libby's first, and then I will come back and take care of mine." Quinn eyed the multiple bags the brunette had packed. "Something tells me I will still get done first."

* * *

Quinn eased out of the bedroom and closed the door silently behind her. Creeping her way as quietly as possibly down the stairs, she finally let out a sigh, and ran her hand through her hair when she reached the bottom. She couldn't sleep, and she couldn't just lie there listening to Rachel snore softly and trying not to move, afraid to disturb the other woman's slumber.

After they had finished unpacking she and Rachel had joined everyone else downstairs. True to her prediction, dinner had been ready and both Quinn and Rachel had assisted in getting the table set and the food served. It had been low key and simple in deference to the more elaborate menu that was planned for tomorrow. After dinner Quinn had been shooed out of the kitchen to go relax, or spend some time with Libby, all three Berrys had been adamant that she wasn't to help with clean up.

Quinn had been playing in the living room with Libby, it had been too dark and chilly to go outside after dinner, when Hiram and Rachel joined them. Cleanup complete, Leroy had kicked everyone out of 'his' kitchen so he could commence his super secret turkey preparation. Hiram had started a fire, and the four of them had settled into a companionable sharing of the living room. The evening had been warm, comfortable, and relaxing, and by all accounts Quinn should have been able to drop right off to sleep.

Instead of losing herself in much needed slumber she had found herself clinging tensely to the side of the bed. For all of her earlier worry about sharing a bed, Rachel had seemed to have no problem with the arrangement, and had been softly snoring within minutes. It was Quinn who was apparently having issues with the situation. Granted, besides Libby, she had never really slept, actually slept, beside anyone else. Maybe at a sleepover in high school , but certainly not anytime recently, and Quinn supposed she just couldn't fully relax with someone so close. She decided to chalk up the time in Vegas as the result of large quantities of alcohol, and she could hardly get trashed in front of Rachel's dads just so she could get some shut eye.

Instead of continuing to toss and turn, and risk waking Rachel, Quinn had decided to make her way downstairs and do something productive. Glancing at the digital display on the cable box as she passed through the living room she saw that it was 2:15 AM, and bit back a sigh. Just perfect, she was going to be absolutely wrecked tomorrow.

Entering the kitchen she began opening the various cupboards, taking a quick inventory to determine if she was going to have everything she needed. Confirming that the last few ingredients were in the refrigerator, Quinn began assembling the ingredients on the kitchen island. She was happy to see that the Berrys kept a well stocked pantry, and she had everything she needed to make some cinnamon rolls for tomorrow's breakfast.

She placed a small pot on the stove to warm the milk and butter for proofing the yeast. Digging through the under counter cabinets she located a large mixing bowl and began measuring her dry ingredients into the bowl. Normally she would use a stand mixer for the dough, but given the late hour, and her desire to relieve some of her tension, she decided to hand knead the dough.

Dough complete, Quinn covered the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and set it near the stove to complete the first rise. She was in the process of mixing together the ingredients for the filling when she heard someone moving down the stairs. She froze, feeling like a trespasser, she had just made herself right at home in someone else's kitchen.

Quinn didn't know whether to curse, or be thankful, when a yawning Leroy entered the kitchen. Quinn wasn't entirely surprised to see him. After he had finished his initial preparations and joined the rest of the group in the living room, Hiram and Rachel had teased him about his 'love affair' with his turkey. His preferred cooking method was done at a very low temp, took almost 24 hours, and required quite a bit of tending.

"Hoping to steal my trade secrets?" Leroy asked eyeing the blonde suspiciously, resting his hands on his hips. "Better men, and women, have tried and failed."

Quinn held up her hands in surrender. "Nothing so nefarious. I just couldn't sleep."

Leroy eyed the blonde thoughtfully before nodding his head, seeming to accept the answer, and shuffled into the room. "Is she still a grappler?"

"Excuse me?" Quinn asked, puzzled.

"Rachel," Leroy clarified. "When she was little it was like sleeping with an MMA fighter. She was constantly in motion, grabbing, twisting, she even managed to land a few good kidney kicks."

"No, ah, she's fine," Quinn hedged. She could hardly tell him she had no earthly idea what Rachel was like in bed, by either meaning of the phrase. The errant thought caused Quinn to flush and she shook her head to clear it. "I just couldn't sleep. Strange place. Strange bed." Quinn shrugged. "I figured since sleep didn't appear to be in the cards I would head down here and do something useful."

"Such as?"

"Well you had yeast, flour, eggs, milk, butter, sugar, cinnamon, and cream cheese..."

"Please. What do you take me for? Of course I did," Leroy scoffed, looking very much like his daughter in that moment, which caused Quinn to grin.

"Which means," Quinn answered with a laugh, "that I had everything I needed to make some cinnamon rolls for tomorrow morning."

Leroy looked at Quinn appraisingly and nodded his head. "That'll do." The large man moved past Quinn and walked over to the stove. Glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Quinn wasn't looking over it, he cracked the door and peered inside critically. Mumbling quietly to himself he walked over to the fridge and withdrew a container with...something...inside. Quinn could only guess the mixture was some type of baste or marinade. He grabbed a baster from a nearby drawer and spend a few minutes tending to the bird. His ministrations complete he returned the container to the refrigerator and rinsed the baster in the sink, setting it aside for later.

"How have you been holding up? Rachel hasn't really said much," Leroy asked the blonde, wiping his hands on a dish towel. Quinn, who had been buttering a pan to put the rolls in paused momentarily, before shrugging.

"Okay I guess? I have been trying to take your advice and trying not to think about it. If I think about it, it drives me crazy, and I know there is nothing I can do about it at this point." Quinn exhaled harshly, ruffling her bangs. "It's just so frustrating."

Leroy looked at her compassionately and placed a hand on her back, patting her reassuringly. "I know," Leroy said seriously, causing Quinn to look at him questioningly. Leroy crossed his arms over his chest and drew in a deep breath, bracing himself for an unpleasant task. Sensing that the man needed some space Quinn moved to retrieve her dough and turned it onto the lightly floured surface. Using her hands she quickly flattened the dough and began to shape it into a rectangle.

"Before Rachel, we tried to adopt," Leroy finally spoke. Quinn eyed him silently as she began to spread the filling over the flattened dough. She knew she hated it when people always prodded her to give up information faster than she was ready to. "In those days it was not easy for two gay men to adopt, so when we found someone willing to do a private adoption we thought we had won the lotto." Leroy shook his head at the memory. "We had the nursery all set up, Hiram had made sure I read every baby book ever published, and we were on the way to the hospital to pick up our son." Leroy clenched his jaw, eyes remote, the memory still painful after all this time.

"What happened?" Quinn asked softly, breaking her rule about not prodding.

Leroy shook himself out of his thoughts. "She changed her mind. Decided she couldn't do it after all." Leroy snapped his fingers. "Just like that, and there was nothing we could do, we had no rights."

Quinn silently retrieved a knife and started cutting the rolls, not sure how she was supposed to react. On the one hand, it was clear that Leroy was trying to tell her he knew what it was like to helplessly watch as your child was taken from you, but on the other hand, the situation wasn't really the same.

Leroy shook his head. "I know it's not the same," Leroy stated, as if reading Quinn's thoughts. "But I know what it's like to feel totally helpless and powerless. I knew that Hiram couldn't go through that again, so I convinced him to let me find a surrogate." Leroy laughed humorlessly. "I made sure that poor girl signed so much paperwork. There was still a risk of course, but with one of us as the biological father, we had rights. I made sure she severed her parental rights almost as soon as she was out of delivery."

"She didn't fight you?" Quinn couldn't fathom agreeing to never see Libby again. Right after she discovered she was pregnant, she had briefly considered abortion, but she just couldn't do it. After that there was no looking back, and she knew that she would do whatever it took to raise her daughter; adoption had never been on her radar.

"It was a business transaction for her," Leroy replied. Seeing Quinn's frown he added, "It sounds cold. Hell it was cold, but it was what we needed. I made sure to pick a surrogate that was not likely to get sentimental and try to back out of our arrangement."Quinn finished placing the completed rolls in the pan and wrapped it tightly in plastic wrap before putting it in the refrigerator. "All done?" Leroy asked, clumsily changing the subject.

Quinn nodded. "They will keep in the fridge until we are ready to bake them. They just need to sit out for about an hour before going into the oven." Luckily the Berry home had dual ovens, so there was no risk to Leroy's turkey. The pair worked in companionable silence to clean up the kitchen. Quinn had made sure to clean as she went, so there wasn't really much left.

Wiping her hands on a towel she glanced at the clock and noticed that it was almost 3:30 AM. "Well I don't want to keep you up, and I really should try to get some sleep." Turning to leave the room she was halted by Leroy's hand on her shoulder. Turning to face him she looked at him curiously.

Leroy cleared his throat. "Quinn, before you go, I just wanted to say one more thing." Quinn raised her eyebrows in silent question. "I know we didn't get off to the best of starts. Which I know, because Hiram has told me, was mostly my fault," Leroy joked. "But I was just being an overprotective parent, which I know you can relate to." Quinn nodded in agreement. As much as it had sucked to be on the end of Leroy's suspicions and mistrust, she had never faulted him for looking after his daughter's best interests.

Leroy cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. "Hiram and I have noticed that, uh, you and Rachel appear a bit...reserved around each other." Quinn furrowed her brows in confusion, not entirely sure where Leroy was going with this, but pretty sure it was nowhere good. "We know our daughter," Leroy replied unhelpfully. "She is, for lack of a better term, a toucher." Quinn swallowed, now pretty sure she knew where this conversation was headed. "We..I..am sorry if my previous behavior towards you, how I was when I learned the news, has caused you to...curb...your affections."

Quinn widened her eyes, horrified by the turn the conversation had taken. "Um..Mr. Berry...Leroy, I'm not really sure..."

"I want you to touch my daughter." Leroy stopped abruptly, looking as horrified as Quinn. "No, that's not...I mean I want you to feel comfortable being...God...I am going to _kill_ Hiram for making me do this," Leroy mumbled. He cleared his throat and tried one final time. "I don't want you and Rachel to feel like you have to hide. I know Hiram and I are old, but we do remember what it was like to be newlyweds, and we know that Rachel has always been an affectionate, tactile, child. I know your initial welcome was anything but welcoming. But we can see how happy you make Rachel, and we want you two to feel comfortable around us."

Quinn swallowed, trying to get some moisture into her suddenly dry mouth. This had to be one of the most uncomfortable conversations she had ever been part of, it may even be worse than the conversation she had with Rachel after their 'wedding', and that was really saying something. "Okay, well, um...thanks?" Quinn pointed towards the doorway. "I'm just gonna...yeah..." Quinn turned and made her escape, desperate to be anywhere but where she currently was. God that was awkward.

Silently creeping her way back upstairs, Quinn shook her head. What was even worse was that she was going to have to tell Rachel. If her dads had noticed, and talked about, the lack of physical affection between them, then it was something that they would have to address. Quinn groaned, she really didn't want to have that conversation.

She crept quietly back into the bedroom, being mindful not to wake up Rachel. There was no reason that they both had to be sleep deprived zombies tomorrow. Making her way across the darkened bedroom Quinn stopped dead in surprise when she saw that Rachel was not alone in the bed. There was just enough moonlight filtering in that Quinn was able to make out the much smaller brunette curled up against Rachel's side.

Rachel had one arm flung up over her head, but the other was draped loosely over Libby's back, cradling the small girl to her side. Quinn felt a mix of emotions swell within her at the sight, but she was too tired to try to decipher them at the moment.

She briefly debated scooping Libby up and carrying her back to her bed, but discarded the idea almost immediately. Relocating Libby would only serve to have all three of them awake. And for what? Rachel and Libby looked comfortable, and were soundly sleeping. With that in mind, she supposed the smart thing to do would be to go sleep in Libby's bed, to avoid the risk of waking them.

It may be the smart thing to do, but Quinn couldn't bring herself to do it. With a jaw cracking yawn she carefully drew back the covers and crawled inside. She tensed when she felt Rachel, or maybe it was Libby, stir, but whoever it was settled back down without waking. Letting out a tired sigh Quinn sank back onto her pillow. She was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Rachel ruffled a hand sleepily through her hair, biting back a yawn, as she made sure to keep her other arm securely wrapped around Libby, who was resting on one hip. Shuffling into the kitchen she greeted her fathers with a grunt.

Leroy raised a brow, but he looked almost as sleepy as his daughter, and for once refrained from teasing her. Hiram silently got up and retrieved a cup and poured Rachel some coffee, setting it down on the counter in front of her.

Rachel smiled her thanks and reached blindly for the cup, taking her first gulp gratefully. Hiram looked curiously past her. "No Quinn?"

Rachel finished swallowing and shook her head. "She had a bit of a late night I think, so I decided to not wake her up, when this one," Rachel nuzzled Libby playfully, causing the still sleepy toddler to giggle, "woke me up."

Leroy snorted. "Welcome to our life. I thought you were accustomed to getting up at this ungodly hour."

"I am, but I am also used to getting a full night of uninterrupted sleep," Rachel replied grumpily.

"Ah, the joys of parenting a toddler," Leroy waxed nostalgically. "I miss them not."

"Your compassion is overwhelming," Rachel grumbled. She turned her attention to Libby, who was beginning to fidget in her arms. "Do you want to get down?" At the affirmative nod, Rachel set the girl on the ground and walked over to the fridge, opening the door to peer inside. Grabbing the jug of orange juice she poured a small glass and placed a hand on Libby's shoulder, guiding the small girl over to the small table in the corner.

"Hop up," Rachel instructed, pulling the chair out. Once Libby had scrambled into place Rachel pushed the chair back in and set the cup down in front of Libby. "Careful." Rachel turned on the small TV that was mounted to the wall near the table and flipped through the channels until she located a child friendly program. Knowing the TV and juice would keep Libby occupied until Rachel could figure out breakfast, Rachel turned to see her fathers regarding her in amusement. "What?"

Hiram and Leroy just shook their heads. "Nothing," Hiram replied, smiling softly. "It's just nice to see you settling into your new role, Mom." Rachel cut her gaze quickly to Libby, and confident that the girl wasn't really paying attention, turned back to her fathers.

"We aren't really calling me that," Rachel replied softly, not wanting Libby to overhear.

Leroy frowned, but it was Hiram who spoke. "Why not? Is that not something you want?"

Rachel shook her head. "No it's not that. Libby has just been through so much, we want to give her time to adjust at her own rate, we don't want to force her to accept me before she's ready."

Leroy's frown increased in intensity. "She looks pretty accepting to me," he insisted. "I really don't think that.."

"Daddy," Rachel insisted firmly, really not wanting to get into a debate with her father right now. "This isn't a topic that is open to discussion. Quinn and I have made our decision."

"I just think.."

"Leroy," Hiram cut in sharply. "Let it go." Leroy opened his mouth as if to protest, but one raised eyebrow from his husband had him closing his mouth with an audible click.

"What smells so good?" Rachel asked. It was a shameless attempt to change the subject, but it really did smell delicious.

"You can thank your wife for that," Hiram replied. "Your Daddy was just telling me how he had some company last night when he did the 3 AM check on his bird." Rachel looked at Leroy in silent question.

"Quinn was having some trouble sleeping, so she decided to raid my kitchen and make cinnamon rolls. We had a nice chat."

"Daddy," Rachel began in warning, ready to launch into another lecture if he had given Quinn a hard time.

Leroy held up his hands in surrender. "I'm serious. I even apologized for how I acted when we first met," Leroy proclaimed proudly. Hiram cleared his throat. "As your dad's suggestion."

Rachel eyed her father suspiciously, but lacking any contradictory evidence, decided she would have to give him the benefit of the doubt. She made a mental note to talk to Quinn about her midnight sojourn at the first opportunity. "You better have been nice, I will be verifying this information with Quinn."

"I have nothing to hide," Leroy insisted. He nodded his head toward the doorway. "Speak of the devil, you can ask her right now in fact."

Rachel spun around to watch a sleep rumpled Quinn shuffle into the room. The blonde's gaze darted around the kitchen, finally coming to rest on her daughter. Her shoulders seemed to loosen, releasing a tension Rachel hadn't been aware of until it was gone. "Ask me what?" Quinn asked, walking across the kitchen to kiss her daughter on the head.

"Coffee?" Rachel asked, already making her way towards the cupboard to retrieve a cup.

Quinn smiled gratefully. "Yes, please." The blonde yawned widely and brought a hand up to cover her mouth. "Sorry."

Hiram waived off the apology. "No need to apologize Quinn, Leroy was just telling me we have you to thank for breakfast this morning." Quinn looked confused for a moment before he expression cleared and she turned to look at Leroy.

"I thought I smelled cinnamon." Making her way to one of the two ovens she peered inside to check on the rolls progress. "You put them in the oven? Did you remember to let them rise first."

Leroy huffed indignantly. "Of course I did, 'let them sit on the counter for at least one hour'."

Quinn hummed her acknowledgement of the man's statement, but didn't take her attention away from the oven. "Temperature?"

"Three-hundred and fifty. I have cooked before you know."

Finally satisfied that her cinnamon rolls were not in danger Quinn straightened and turned back to face the room. Noticing the three sets of amused eyes on her Quinn blushed slightly. "Sorry, I'm not really used to sharing the kitchen." Rachel laughed softly and handed Quinn her coffee. When Quinn leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before she took the cup, Rachel almost fumbled the cup and sent the hot liquid spilling down Quinn's shirt. When the blonde pulled back Rachel flashed her a confused look, but received a smile, and small head shake in response. Instead of moving away, Quinn wrapped one arm loosely around Rachel's back, resting her hand on the brunette's hip.

"So what were you going to ask me?" Quinn asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Oh um," Rachel fumbled, slightly flustered by the blonde's sudden affinity for physical closeness. " I was just going to confirm that Daddy was nice to you last night. He informed us that the two of you had a 'nice chat', and with him that can really mean anything."

Quinn smiled into her coffee cup, before taking another healthy swallow. "Well in this case it means exactly what it sounds like. We had a nice chat."

"See I told you," Leroy stated triumphantly.

"Given your track record where Quinn is concerned, you can hardly blame me for being suspicious."

"Well, you can put your fears to rest. Quinn and I have cleared the air." Leroy shifted his gaze a few inches to the right to meet Quinn's eyes. "And I see she took my suggestion to heart."

Rachel looked curiously from her father to Quinn's lightly flushed face. "What does that mean?" Rachel hated being on the outside of an inside joke.

"Ask your wife," Leroy deadpanned; there was exactly zero chance he was going to have that conversation again.

Anything else Rachel was going to say was cut off by Libby running across the kitchen and colliding with Quinn's legs. "BB's here!" Libby cried excitedly, pulling on her mother's hand. Quinn looked down at her daughter in confusion, and set her coffee cup on the counter to prevent the girl's exuberant actions from sending the hot liquid spilling everywhere.

"I don't think so sweetie," Quinn corrected, smoothing the girl's tangled, curly mop of hair back from her eyes. "Auntie Brit had to stay home, we are going to see her next week though."

"No she here," Libby insisted, shaking her head violently.

A knock sounded at the front door and all the adults turned to face the source of the sound. "That must be Santana," Hiram offered, getting up to go answer the door.

"Since when does Santana knock," Rachel snorted in amusement.

"She does seem to have an aversion to announcing her presence before just barging in," Quinn agreed with a small frown, causing Leroy to chuckle. "What?"

"Oh nothing, I'm sure that has just taken some...getting used to," he teased. Quinn arched her brow, pretty sure she knew what the man was referring to. While she was glad she and Rachel's dad were getting along now, she wasn't sure if she was as thrilled about this new teasing aspect to their interaction. Sometimes her pale skin was truly a curse, and she felt herself blushing, again.

The indistinct murmur of several voices could be heard making its way down the hallway, and before Quinn could stop her Libby dashed down the hallway. She moved to follow, but Rachel stopped her with a hand on her arm. Quinn turned to her in question.

"She's fine, you don't need to watch her every move," Rachel reassured her.

The oven timer went off and Leroy opened the door to check on the buns. "Do these look done to you?" Quinn looked torn, but she conceded that Rachel was right, and she had to allow Libby some room to explore, so she went to confer with Leroy.

"I thought you said you had cooked before," Quinn taunted playfully. Eyeing the buns critically she said, "Turn the heat off, but leave them in the oven, they need another few minutes." She looked at the counter, but not seeing what she was searching for she turned to Leroy. "Where's the glaze?"

"There's a glaze?"

"Of course there's a glaze," Quinn replied with a raised brow. "If you are going to do cinnamon rolls you have to do them right." She grabbed a small bowl out of the cabinet. "Can you grab me the cream cheese and milk?"

"Yes ma'am," Leroy replied, well used to being ordered around, even in his own kitchen.

As Quinn was mixing the remaining ingredients for the glaze into the bowl Hiram re-entered the kitchen, Santana right behind him. "Look what I found on our doorstep."

"Can we send it back?" Rachel joked, smiling at her long time friend.

Santana quickly made sure that Libby wasn't nearby before flipping Rachel the middle finger. "Love you to." Rachel stuck out her tongue in reply.

"Girls," Hiram warned.

"Since when do you knock?" Rachel asked her friend.

"Since I have been informed that it is rude to just barge into people's homes unannounced."

"I have been telling you that for years," Rachel laughed. "Why is it only now sinking in? Slow learner?"

Santana leered playfully and winked. "Maybe you just weren't using the right...motivation."

"Okay, ewww," Rachel replied with a shudder. She craned her neck to peer past her friend, who had stopped in the doorway. "Just where is this paragon that is finally teaching an old Santana new tricks."

"Who you calling old? You are a month older than I am," Santana scoffed. Turning to speak over her shoulder Santana called down the hallway, "Baby, quit hiding and playing with the rug rat and come say hi to everyone." Quinn, who had been focused on mixing the glaze for the buns, finally noticed that Libby hadn't returned to the kitchen with Hiram and Santana.

Catching the blonde's gaze Rachel mouthed 'Baby?' Quinn shrugged her shoulders, just as lost as Rachel. Santana tilted her body sideways and extended her arm to welcome the newcomer into the room. "Everyone I'd like you to meet..."

"Brittany?" Quinn blurted in surprise when she spotted her friend.

Brittany smiled sheepishly and raised her hand in greeting. "Hey guys."

"See, I telled you BB was here," Libby insisted, clutching onto the blonde's other hand.

Leroy took in the scene and looked from one blonde to the other. "I take it you two know each other?"

Quinn continued to stand, dumbfounded, by her friends arrival, so Rachel answered. "Dad, Daddy, this is Quinn's good friend Brittany. They used to live together before we, um, got married." Rachel turned to Santana. "And she's Santana's..."

"Girlfriend," the Latina replied blandly. Taking in the slightly stunned looks of everyone in the room Santana crossed her arms across her chest defiantly. "Is it really that surprising?"

"Honestly? Yes," Rachel replied, still not sure what to make of this most recent development. She had known that Santana was interested in Brittany, but even in her wildest imaginings she hadn't predicted that Santana would get serious so quickly. It was very out of character.

"Whatever," Santana said dismissively. "What smells so good, I'm starved."

Leroy chuckled, "Well at least that much hasn't changed."

* * *

The surprise of Santana's arrival having worn off, everyone retreated into the living room with a fresh cup of coffee, and a hot, fresh, cinnamon roll, to watch the parade. Just like coming to Long Island for the holiday's, watching the parade was another tradition in the Berry household.

As she settled on the couch beside Rachel, Quinn realized that the Berrys had quite a few family traditions, and it was something that she wanted to give to Libby. Her own family traditions had usually revolved around church, and they didn't have the warm comfortable feeling that the Berrys did.

"Libby, make sure you use the napkin to wipe your hands before you touch anything," Quinn reminded her daughter. When she had tried to insist that it would be better for Libby to stay in the kitchen until she had finished her sticky breakfast treat, she had been quickly vetoed. It was tradition that everyone pile into the living to eat breakfast and watch the parade, and they wouldn't hear of leaving Libby out, even for a little while.

Libby sighed out loudly from her spot on the floor. "I know Mommy." The girl had curled up on the floor with a blanket and Mr. Tubs in front of the TV, wanting a front row seat. Rachel bit back a grin at the little girls long suffering tone. Hiram caught the action and smiled at his daughter.

"Laugh now, you won't find it as amusing when she's sixteen," Hiram warned his daughter playfully.

"If there is any justice in the world you will know our pain," Leroy chimed in. He sent a sympathetic look at the blonde. "Sorry Quinn, you seem like a nice girl, and I hate to wish that on you, but Rachel definitely deserves to experience what she was like from the other side, and you are just collateral damage."

Rachel crossed her arms with a pout, expelling a sigh. "I wasn't that bad," she insisted, unknowingly projecting the exact same air of exasperation as the smaller brunette.

Leroy's lips twitched in amusement. "Of course not sweetie, I don't know what I was thinking." Catching the blonde's gaze he mouthed 'good luck' and sent her a wink.

"So what time is dinner?" Santana asked around a mouthful of cinnamon roll. She and Brittany had curled up on the loveseat, and were being, to Quinn's mind, disgustingly sweet and couple-y. The last thing she and Rachel needed right now was the a 'real' couple to be compared to in light of her fathers' concerns about their behavior.

"Really Santana?" Rachel asked in wonder. "You are still eating breakfast."

"Hey, I have been dreaming of that turkey all year." Santana paused to take another bite of her cinnamon roll. "Remember that one year when I couldn't make it because my family insisted I had to fly to my _abuela's_, and you _promised _you would remember to bring me leftovers, but then you..."

"Oh my god Santana, you need to let that go, it was like six years ago!" Rachel cried. "It's just turkey for god's sake."

"Hey," Leroy chimed in, clearly affronted. "I will have you know I spent years perfecting that recipe. It is more than 'just turkey'."

"Now you've done it," Hiram muttered softly to his daughter. More loudly he said, "Dinner will be around 3 PM, like it is every year."

Santana shrugged. "Just wanted to be sure."

Rachel rolled her eyes and directed her attention back to the parade. Quinn, mindful of how cuddly and affectionate Brittany were acting, made sure to maintain a casual physical contact with Rachel, and draped an arm across the brunette's shoulders. At the contact Quinn felt Rachel tense, and shoot her a questioning look. Quinn cut her gaze toward where Brittany and Santana were cuddled up, but after glancing at the couple Rachel just looked back to her in confusion. Quinn bit back a sigh, they really needed a few minutes alone so they could talk.

Noticing how enthralled with the parade Libby was Hiram commented, "Maybe we should stay in the city next year so we can take Libby to the parade."

Quinn wasn't sure how to respond. She knew that she almost certainly wouldn't be part of their lives by this time next year, but she could hardly say that. "Oh, that's, really nice of you, but I wouldn't want to mess with your family tradition. She's fine with seeing it on TV," Quinn insisted.

Hiram shook his head, dismissing Quinn's concern. "We did it quite a few times when Rachel was little, she loved it."

"We finally had to stop when she started throwing tantrums when we had to keep preventing her from running out and trying to hijack the floats."

"I wasn't trying to hijack the floats," Rachel sniffed. "Some of those float performers were simply dreadful, and they would have benefited from some professional instruction."

"You were six!" Leroy insisted.

"I didn't say I was going to instruct them," Rachel replied haughtily. "I was merely going to offer to take their place while they sought the professional guidance they so obviously needed."

By 11 AM the parade had concluded and Libby was starting to get a bit antsy. "Why don't you girls take Libby down to the beach to play for a few hours," Hiram offered. "The weather is gorgeous. I can pack you five a light lunch and that way you won't be cooped up inside all day."

Finally seeing an opportunity to speak to Rachel alone, Quinn was quick to agree. "Thank you Hiram that sounds great. I think Libby could benefit from a little fresh air and the chance to run around a bit." Quinn turned to Brittany. "Would you mind keeping an eye on Libby while Rachel and I go get ready?" Since they had migrated straight from the kitchen to the living room to watch the parade, neither Quinn nor Rachel had a chance to shower and get dressed yet.

Brittany nodded her head and waved her friend towards the stairs. "Of course not, you two go, it sounds like fun."

The plan made, Quinn and Rachel made their way upstairs to get ready. Wanting to ensure that they weren't overheard Quinn made sure to close the bedroom door behind them before saying anything.

"Rachel I want to explain..."

"Quinn, not that I mind, but..."

Both women stopped mid-sentence, waiting for the other to continue. "You go ahead," Rachel offered, realizing that Quinn was likely about to explain the very thing she had a question about .

"Remember the chat your dad mentioned us having last night?"

Rachel nodded her head, her expression growing slightly pensive. "You said it went okay, that you two had cleared the air."

"It did, we did," Quinn hastened to assure her. "It's just after that, things got a little...weird."

"Weird how?"

Quinn rubbed the back of her neck, not exactly sure how to phrase the bizarre interaction with Leroy. "He indicated that he and Hiram have noticed, and had concerns about, how we have been interacting, or not interacting, with each other, based on their knowledge of how you are prone to acting around people you have affection for."

Rachel looked at Quinn blankly. "Quinn I realize that I can sometimes talk around the point, and use more words than may be strictly necessary to convey a point...but I have no idea what you just said."

"They noticed that we haven't been touching each other that much, and since you are, as he put it, a 'toucher', he wanted to assure me that our rocky start aside, they could see how happy you are, and they don't want us to behave differently around them because we are worried they disapprove."

Rachel blinked, silently processing the barrage of information. Finally connecting the dots Rachel spoke. "So that's why you...," Rachel trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

"Yes," Quinn replied, nodding her head. "I was going to talk to you this morning, but when I woke up you and Libby were already gone. Thank you for that by the way, but you really didn't have to do that, you should have woken me up."

Rachel dismissed Quinn's statement with a wave of her hand. "I've told you its fine. After Libby came in last night, and I noticed you were gone, I figured you hadn't gotten that much sleep and wanted to let you sleep for as long as possible."

"So did I do the right thing?" Quinn questioned uncertainly.

"What? Oh of course, Quinn, that was very quick thinking on your part." Rachel clapped her hands together with a little smile. "My dads clearly believe we are a couple and that has to bode well for our overall presentation." Rachel frowned in thought. "Though the fact that they noticed that we haven't really been touching, and that that seems out of character, and is less than ideal, that is not something that an outsider would be likely to pick up on. So overall I would say this is good news," Rachel concluded with a smile.

Quinn frowned at the brunette, not sure Rachel was grasping the real point at play. "So what do you want to do about it? I mean with Santana and Brittany being all...coupley," Quinn bit out, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

Rachel paused to consider for a moment. "I think you had the right of it," Rachel finally concluded. "We just need to up our couple game so that my fathers will stop worrying that we still fear their disapproval."

Quinn quirked her eyebrow, eyeing the brunette thoughtfully. "What are we talking about here, on a scale of one to ten?"

"Scale?" Rachel asked in confusion.

"How would you rate your level of...touchy feeliness...in a relationship," Quinn clarified.

"I can't say I ever really stopped to consider it," Rachel admitted. "Give me an example."

"Really?" Quinn huffed, exasperated.

Rachel crossed her arms and tapped her foot in annoyance. "Well I'm sorry Quinn, but I don't really know how to rate myself on a scale of "touchy feeliness" when in a relationship."

"I'm just trying to get an idea of what type of behavior you would be normally be comfortable engaging in when in front of your parents." Quinn paused, now sure if she should bring it up, knowing that it was a sore spot for the brunette. The hell with it. "I mean, how affectionate were you with Jesse?"

Rachel froze, looking away uncomfortably. "Jesse wasn't really a fan of cuddling in public."

Quinn frowned in confusion. "Then if you didn't do that with her, why do your dads assume that how you are acting with me is out of character?"

"It may have come up."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that my dads never approved of Jesse, and when they expressed their concerns about our relationship, and interactions, I just assured them that Jesse wasn't comfortable with PDA." Rachel sighed. "I think everyone saw the flashing neon marquee but me, she was never into me."

Quinn reached out and lay a comforting hand on Rachel's shoulder, regretting bringing the topic up. "I think we have already determined that Jesse is an idiot. So forget about her." Quinn thought for a second. "Okay lets approach this another way. Obviously you are comfortable with casual touches and hand holding - we've done both of those." Rachel nodded her head.

"Hugging?"

"Yes."

"Cuddling?"

"Yes."

"Kissing?"

Rachel paused briefly. "Yes, but not making out."

Quinn released a short laugh. "Well that's a relief, I don't think I could engage in a make out session in front of your dad. So it sounds like we don't really have to do more, we just have to increase the frequency of what we have already been doing?"

Rachel contemplated the statement, before nodding her head. "We just have to up the cuddle quotient."

"The cuddle quotient? Really?" Quinn teased.

"Like you're one to talk Ms. Scale of Touchy Feeliness."

"Ok, point taken." Quinn ran a hand through her hair. "We should probably get ready before they wonder what is taking us so long," Quinn offered.

"Come now Quinn," Rachel scolded teasingly, inching into the blonde's personal space. "Would two newlyweds really rush back downstairs when they finally got a moment to themselves?" Rachel trailed her fingertips lightly up Quinn's arm, leaving goose bumps in her wake. Quinn licked her lips nervously as Rachel continued to stare intently at her.

Quinn's eyes widened perceptibly, not expecting that from Rachel at all, and not sure how she was going to face Rachel's dads, especially Leroy, if she had it in her head that they thought she had been up here having sex with their daughter.

Rachel suddenly eased back, tapping Quinn on the nose. "I wish you could see your expression." Quinn frowned in confusion. "We need to get back in character Quinn, we haven't had to be 'on' since the benefit and that was weeks ago." Rachel folded her arms and tilted her head to the side, eyeing the blonde critically. "Where are you on the scale?"

"Huh?" Quinn responded blankly, still trying to gather her scattered thoughts.

"The 'touchy feeliness' scale, where do you fall?" Rachel questioned. "Unlike me, you don't have the benefit of years of acting lessons and professional training. In public, no one is going to know us well enough to pick up on the subtle signs, but my fathers are very perceptive, and we are bound to spend quite a bit of time around them. I don't want you to have to force it, our interactions have to be natural."

"Oh, um...I guess...I'm…. I have no idea," Quinn finally answered, perplexed. It was true, her only real experience with relationships had been in high school, and her visceral disdain for when her boyfriends would touch her, now could be seen in a whole new light. Her public displays with Rachel thus far has been mildly uncomfortable, but they had been practically strangers, putting on an act, so that was hardly a good gauge. Since they had grown more at ease with each other they really hadn't had to "perform".

"Well you can just follow my lead," Rachel reassured her. "As long as you don't stand there like a deer in the headlights then we should be fine," Rachel teased.

Plan made the two women split up to get ready. Rachel instructed Quinn to use the adjoining bath; she would just use her dads. Not wanting to keep everyone waiting both women rushed through their morning routine. Quinn was sitting on the bed, waiting for Rachel, when the brunette walked into the room.

"All set?" Rachel queried, holding out her hand for Quinn to take. Nodding her head Quinn got up from the bed and grasped Rachel's hand. "It's actually good that my dads said something," Rachel offered. "I think we have let the lack of public appearances make us a bit rusty, so this will be a good dress rehearsal."

Rachel led the way downstairs, tugging Quinn behind her towards the kitchen, where she knew everyone would be congregating. Walking in the pair was surprised to see that only Hiram was in attendance.

"Where is everyone?" Rachel asked curiously.

"Your dad wanted to see if he could locate some of your old beach toys in the garage, and Santana and Brittany decided to take Libby outside to run around a bit since she was getting a little restless," Hiram informed his daughter. He slid the picnic hamper across the island towards Quinn and Rachel. "Just a little something to hold you guys over until dinner time."

Rachel grabbed the basket, and handed it to Quinn, who took it in her free hand. Still holding onto the blonde, Rachel walked over to her father and leaned up, kissing him on the cheek. "Thanks Dad, you're the best."

"You girls have fun, and be sure to be back a bit before three, you know your dad gets."

Rachel glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes at her dad as she led Quinn toward the door. "As if Santana would ever allow us to risk being late for dinner."

* * *

The four women were sitting on a large beach blanket that Leroy had found in the garage, while Libby happily dug in the sand, with an assortment of beach toys, a few yards away. The day was sunny, but still brisk, so they were back far enough from the waterline to ensure that they would not be hit with the spray from the waves.

"Sooooo," Rachel finally said, no longer able to take it. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"Say anything about what?" Santana asked absently, pawning through the picnic basket to see what Hiram had packed for them. The basket was resting in the middle of the blanket, each couple taking up camp on opposite sides.

Rachel huffed. "Santana, you know very well what I am referring to, stop being difficult." Rachel had waited as long as she could, but now that they were finally alone, her scant patience was at its end. She was positive that Santana was just delaying now to torture her; the other brunette had always had a sadistic streak.

"I'll admit to being more than a little bit curious myself," Quinn interjected, eyeing Brittany in concern. She had expressed her concerns about the Latina previously, but with her cutback in hours, she hadn't been spending as much time with her friend, and was unaware of these more recent developments. "How long has this been going on?"

Santana crossed her arms and sent Quinn an annoyed look. "You two are acting like jilted lovers, what is the big deal? So Brittany and I are dating."

"Why are you being so defensive?" Rachel shot back, truly not understanding what was ruffling Santana's feathers so thoroughly. "Quinn and I just want to understand what is going on between the two of you. We knew you two were friendly, but we had no idea you were dating." Rachel looked to Brittany, knowing that the blonde was the more reasonable of the two, and hoping that she would shed some light on the situation since Santana was insisting on being difficult.

Brittany covered Santana's hand, which was clenched in a fist on the blanket, with her own, rubbing her thumb over the back of it soothingly. Rachel marveled when she saw some of the tension drain out of her friend. Usually when Santana worked herself into a snit, nothing but time could help calm her down.

"That was my fault," Brittany explained, keeping up her soothing ministrations on Santana's hand. "I didn't want to say anything until we were sure it was going to work out." Brittany gave Santana a warm look, that clearly conveyed her affection for the other woman. "Santana told me about her less than successful dating history." The comment elicited a snort from Rachel, which in turn earned her a heated glare from Santana. Before the two friends could turn the exchange of looks into a more heated verbal exchange, Brittany continued, "And I know that you had...reservations about Santana." Brittany directed the comment at Quinn, who shifted uncomfortably on the blanket. "So I told Santana that I wanted to keep it quiet, keep the pressure and scrutiny off, until we knew whether it was just a passing attraction, or if it was something more."

"And?" Rachel asked somewhat breathlessly, getting caught up in the tale.

"I brought her to celebrate Thanksgiving, what do you think," Santana bit out, still somewhat annoyed despite the blonde's efforts to soothe her.

Rachel huffed in annoyance at her friends acerbic response, and sent a pitying look toward Brittany. "I get what she sees in you, but what exactly do you see in her?"

"Hey," Santana said hotly, leaning forward and moving toward her friend. "You are supposed to be my friend. This is why I never asked you to be my wingman." Before she could close the gap, Brittany wrapped her hand in the fabric of Santana's sweater and pulled her back.

During the exchange between the two brunettes, Quinn sat quietly, pensively worrying her lip. Finally she looked up and met Brittany's gaze. "I'm sorry if you felt you had to hide your relationship from me." Quinn shook her head. "I never meant to make you feel like you couldn't tell me about what was going on in your life without me giving you a hard time." Quinn darted her gaze to Santana, who was still slightly bristly in posture, as if ready to ward off an attack. "I did have my reservations about Santana, but if she makes you happy..." Quinn trailed off.

Brittany smiled warmly at her friend, and nodded her head. "She does, and I know you had concerns. You just had so much going on, I didn't want you to waste time worrying that I was making a mistake." Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but Brittany cut her off, "Don't try to deny it, you know you would have felt obligated to try to talk me out of it."

"I don't see why everyone feels the need to warn people away from me," Santana said grumpily. "So I enjoyed the single life, so what? I never led anyone on. I never lied to anyone. I was always upfront. What's so wrong in that?"

"It's not that there's anything _wrong _with it," Rachel explained, tilting her head to the side and shrugging her shoulders slightly. "It's just that someone with that type of track record, you tend to warn your friends away from."

"Well I think that people that get drunk married in tacky Vegas wedding chapels shouldn't be so quick to throw stones," Santana said, glaring narrowly at Quinn. "At least I can handle my liquor, and don't wind up marrying randoms."

"Santana that's not very nice! And in case you have forgotten, I was the random she married."

"Well it wasn't very nice of her to tell Brittany that I wasn't good enough for her either," Santana shot back rebelliously. Quinn leaned forward, to interject that she had never said that, she had simply urged her friend to be careful, but Brittany caught her eye and shook her head, indicating that she wanted to let the two friends work it out without interference.

"You think that about everyone I date," Rachel cried, pointing out her friends hypocrisy.

"That's different," Santana insisted, grumpily. "I'm right."

Rachel rolled her eyes, at the end of her patience with her petulant friend. "You can't fault Quinn for being protective of her friend," Rachel insisted. "I'm sure that now that Quinn knows how Brittany feels, she will be happy to get to know you better." Rachel looked to Quinn for confirmation, and the blonde quickly nodded her head. "Which may, or may not, serve to put her fears about you to rest." Rachel couldn't resist one last jab at her friend, but the wide smile on her face let Santana know she was only joking.

Santana eyed them both suspiciously for a few moments, before finally shrugging her shoulders. "Fine, but that doesn't mean we are going on like, double dates and shit."

The elephant in the room dealt with, the four women could finally relax and enjoy the day. Quinn braced her hands behind her, leaning her weight back, and simply took in her surroundings. Given that it was almost December, and a holiday, the beach was virtually deserted. Libby was still contentedly playing in the sand, happily scooping, piling, and attempting to form the sand into a stable shape. They were so far back however that the sand just flowed into a formless heap.

Quinn pushed herself to her feet and walked over to her daughter, crouching in the sand next to her. Running her hand through her daughter's curls, she tucked some of her unruly hair behind one ear. "Are you having fun?" Quinn asked Libby with a smile.

Libby nodded her head, not taking her attention off of the task at hand. "Yup. I build a castle."

"A castle huh? And who lives in the castle?"

"We do."

"A whole castle, just for the two of us?" Quinn asked playfully.

Libby shook her head, finally looking up her mother. "Nooooo," Libby corrected, as if that should have been totally obvious.

"Well who else lives there?"

"Mr. Tubs," Libby replied almost immediately.

Quinn rolled her eyes playfully, and nodded her head. "Of course, how could I have forgotten Mr. Tubs."

"And BB," Libby continued, her attention once more back on her 'castle.'

Quinn's expression grew slightly sad. "You really miss living with Auntie Brit don't you?"

Libby nodded again. "And Rachel."

Quinn frowned, confused. "You miss living with Rachel?"

Libby sent her mother an exasperated look and shook her head. "Nooo, Rachel lives in the castle."

Quinn felt her breath catch in her throat. She had afraid of this; of the two of them getting close. She was grateful for Rachel getting to know Libby, making her feel at home. She just wasn't looking forward to Libby facing yet another loss in her young life. She had already lost Brittany in a way, and now, just after getting close, she as going to lose Rachel. Not tomorrow, but someday. And the more time they spend together, the closer they would get, and the worse the loss would be.

"Hey what are you two up to?" Rachel asked, joining the mother and daughter.

Quinn licked her lips, and cleared her throat, before speaking. "Libby here is building a castle."

Rachel took in the construction project with a critical eye, head tilted to one side. While it may a have been a castle to Libby, in reality it was little more than slightly lumpy pile of sand. "You know what would make this castle even better? A little water." Rachel turned and yelled for her friend. "Santana come here and help me!"

Santana looked like she was prepared to refuse, but a push from Brittany had her getting to her feet, and brushing the sand off her legs. Santana made her way over and looked at Rachel expectantly, one eyebrow raised, waiting for the singer to tell her why she had been summoned.

"Grab one of those buckets," Rachel indicated the plastic pails that her dad had located in the garage, "and help me get some water so that Libby can build a proper castle."

Before she could protest, Quinn turned and spoke. "What? Rachel no, that's insane. The water has to be freezing."

"Damn right it's freezing, there is no way I'm wading out into that," Santana insisted, arms crossed defiantly across her chest.

"Don't be such a baby," Rachel huffed at her friend. Directing her attention to Quinn she said, "It's fine, really, it will only take a second." Rachel toed off her Sperry's, and bent down to roll her cuffs. Finished rolling her jeans up to mid-calf, she reached over and grabbed one of the large plastic buckets. "Are you coming? Or are you too chicken."

"It has nothing to do with being chicken," Santana bristled at the sleight. "I'm just not insane."

"Fine," Rachel said, twirling around, marching determinedly toward the water line, "I'll just make two trips."

"Santa's a chicken! Santa's a chicken!" Libby yelled loudly, her sand castle temporarily forgotten.

"I'm not a chicken," Santana told the toddler hotly.

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Oh for the love of..." Santana muttered, kicking off her shoes, and stripping off her socks as quickly as possible. Hastily snatching up one of the remaining buckets, Santana dashed after her friend. "Wait up!"

During the verbal back and forth between Santana and Libby, Brittany walked over to join the rest of the group. "They are completely insane, that water has to be like fifty degrees." Quinn could only nod her agreement as she watched the two brunettes finally reach the water's edge.

"Well aren't you going to go in," Santana taunted Rachel, who had stopped a few inches from the lapping waves, her toes curled tightly into the sand. "This was your idea. Or are you chicken."

"I'm going to go," Rachel replied, her voice betraying her sudden uncertainty. She slanted a sideways look at her friend. "On three?" Santana nodded her agreement.

"One...two...three." On the count, both brunettes rushed into the water.

Rachel let out a piercing scream while Santana expressed her displeasure in a more colorful manner. "Holy fucking, mother sucking, god damned, son of a bitch!"

"Santana! Language! What if Libby heard you!" Rachel scolded, finally catching her breath after the shock of the cold water, and her scream, temporarily robbed her.

"Fuck my language! This shit is freezing!" Not wanting to spend any longer than necessary in the frigid water, Santana swung her arm down, scooping water blindly into the bucket she held. Rachel was quick to copy suit, and soon both women were slogging their way back up the beach toward Libby.

Upon their return, they were met by a two equally un-amused blondes. "You two are going to be lucky not to catch a cold," Brittany scolded, taking the bucket from Santana's grasp. The brunette immediately bend down, and began trying to rub some warmth into her nearly frozen feet.

"It wasn't my fault," Santana insisted, looking at her girlfriend. "She called me a chicken!" Santana saw Brittany send Rachel a disapproving look. "Not her," Santana said, standing back up straight. "Her!" she pointed a finger accusingly at Libby, who merely giggled.

Meanwhile, Quinn was giving Rachel a scolding of her own. "That really was a stupid thing to do, you look like you're freezing."

"I'm fine," Rachel insisted, her teeth chattering slightly. Quinn rolled her eyes at the blatant lie, and removed the pail from Rachel's, setting it near her feet. "Go sit on the blanket, dry your feet off, and try to warm them up," Quinn commanded in her best mom voice. Rachel poked her lower lip out in a small pout, not enjoying the scolding, but she finally complied when Quinn continued to just stare at her, hands on hips, and eyebrow raised, silently daring Rachel to disobey her.

Noticing her daughter eyeing her curiously, and not wanting the water to go to waste after everything Rachel and Santana had gone through to secure it, Quinn knelt down and slowly began pouring the buckets' out onto the sand. Grabbing one of the nearby plastic rakes, Quinn mixed the sand and water thoroughly. Taking one of the smaller plastic molds Quinn packed some of the wet sand inside and flipped it over. Slowly lifting the plastic away, only the wet sand remained behind, retaining its shape perfectly.

"It stayed!" Libby clapped delightedly. "Me try." Libby snatched up a nearby toy, adroitly following her mother's example. Confident that Libby now had the hang of it, Quinn straightened and went to go check on Rachel.

Santana was sitting on the blanket, muttering and shooting daggers at Rachel, while Brittany worked to rub some warmth into her still frozen feet. Rachel was hunched over, trying to do the same to her own icy toes. Dropping to her knees in front of the brunette, Quinn began briskly rubbing the other woman's feet.

"Did Libby like it?" Rachel asked curiously, leaning back and allowing the blonde to rub her feet. Quinn flicked her gaze up to Rachel and nodded her head.

"Yes, she liked it, but you are still an idiot for running into the ocean in the late November so a three-year-old can build a better sand castle."

Rachel leaned sideways, so she could see Libby, and smiled when she saw the child happily creating a masterpiece in the wet sand. She eased back into place, smiling broadly at Quinn. "Totally worth it."

* * *

"I swear to god Mr. B, if we weren't both gay, and you weren't old enough to be my father, I would totes marry you so I could have guaranteed access to this turkey every year," Santana moaned around a mouthful of turkey.

Rachel shot her friend a disgusted look, her fork pausing in mid-air, inches from her mouth. "Santana, that's gross, and I'm trying to eat."

"I'm just saying, this turkey is the bomb," Santana retorted, stuffing another forkful in her mouth.

Leroy laughed. "Well thank you Santana. You know you are welcome here anytime, and you don't need to go to any extreme, or disturbing, lengths to secure your invitation. You are a part of the family, you should know that by now."

They had spend a few more hours at the beach, Libby begrudgingly taking a brief break from castle building to eat the light lunch Hiram had packed, but as the two o'clock hour approached Santana had started getting antsy. True to prediction, she didn't want to risk being late for dinner. The group had arrived back at the house just in time to start helping set the table. Quinn had settled Libby in the living room in front of the TV with a blanket and Mr. Tubs, hoping that the toddler would take a brief nap. She usually napped for at least an hour in the late afternoon, and with all the fresh air and running around she had done on the beach, she would surely be tired.

The Berry man had tried to shoo her out of the kitchen, saying that she was a guest, and she should just go relax. This time Quinn stood firm, and much to Rachel's displeasure, insisted that she was family, and she would be helping. The battle won, Rachel and Quinn had helped her dads while Brittany and Santana went upstairs to clean up and change. If they took far longer than was necessary to complete said task, everyone was too polite to say anything.

Quinn marveled at the stress free atmosphere. She knew she should be used to it by now, she had spent more than enough time around Rachel and her family to know they were nothing like own. Regardless, she kept finding herself surprised when instead of the anger and tension she usually associated with the holidays, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and good natured teasing.

"Mommy more!" Libby tugged on her arm, pulling Quinn from her thoughts. Quinn looked at her daughter, then to the girl's plate, and noticed that it was indeed devoid of turkey. Libby was normally an okay eater, but she had plowed through the turkey in record time.

"Looks like we have another addict on our hands," Quinn joked to Leroy, placing another helping of turkey on Libby's plate, and cutting it into small, bite-sized pieces.

"I never had any doubt," Leroy assured Quinn confidently. "No one can resist the turkey."

"That's not entirely true," Hiram corrected. "Remember the year that Rachel went vegan?"

Santana groaned, rolling her eyes. "Oh god that was the _worst_. She spent all year nagging me every time I tried to eat anything even remotely tasty. _'Think of the poor animals Santana.'_"

"You think you had it bad?" Leroy countered. "I had to live with her. I kept coming home and finding my refrigerator empty and all my food in the trash." Leroy looked at his daughter with a grin. "She did not appreciate it when I pointed out that she was just making their deaths be in vain if we just threw the meat away."

"Go ahead," Rachel chided. "Make fun of me, but I still maintain that the conditions those poor animals are forced to live in are deplorable. Why, in this country alone, over 32 million cows are slaughtered annually. That's just cows, just in the U.S." Rachel informed them heatedly. "Have you ever _seen _ the methods they..."

"Rachel," Hiram interrupted firmly, cutting his daughter off before she could work up a full head of steam. "Maybe now is not the time to get into this." He cut his gaze to Libby, who was staring at the brunette, wide eyed. Rachel had the good grace to blush, and she cleared her throat.

"Yes, of course. I just don't appreciate them," she glared at Santana and her other father, "making a joke of it."

"They don't," Hiram reassured Rachel. "That's why we now make sure we source all our animal products locally, from farms that we can trust." Directing his attention to Libby, who had resumed inhaling the turkey, much more than was probably strictly advisable, Hiram asked, "Do you like going to your new school?" Hiram knew that Quinn had acquiesced, and was glad, since he knew how highly regarded the school was.

Libby swallowed hastily, and nodded her head. "School fun. We do arts, and story time, and snacks. We has a classroom bunny."

"A bunny! That must be exciting."

"His name is Mr. Sniffs. He very soft. We gets to pet him, but only after we wash our hands. Then we have to wash them _again_ after we pets him," Libby explained, clearly disgruntled by all the excessive hand washing.

"Well it is very important to make sure your hands are clean so you don't get sick," Hiram explained, slipping into pediatrician mode.

"Miss Pillsbury say that ," Libby cried, convinced there was some great adult conspiracy.

"Tell them about what we have been working on," Rachel prompted, smiling at Libby encouragingly. She had been working with the girl for the last few weeks, and unable to share her own tryout news, she was willing to live vicariously through Libby.

"Oh! We doing Christmas pa...pag...padent. I'mma be the star!"

"Oh god," Leroy muttered, rolling his eyes. "Heaven help us all, another one."

Quinn looked at her daughter, frowning in confusion. She was aware of the pageant since the school had sent home a notification informing the parents. Yet as far as she knew, they had yet to 'cast' the play, because if they had she should have received notification of Libby's costume. "Have you been working with Libby on her part?" Quinn directed the question to Rachel. "I didn't realize they had already assigned roles to the kids."

"They haven't," Rachel confirmed. "I have been working with Libby on her audition piece, those other kids won't know what hit them."

"Her audition piece?" Quinn asked dumbly. "I didn't realize they were supposed to prepare one."

Rachel rolled her eyes, exhaling in annoyance. "They aren't, something which I intend to take up with Miss Pillsbury the next time I see her. How can she possibly be expected to properly cast her production if she is not going to normalize the audition process." Rachel shook her head. "Honestly the whole thing seems rather poorly organized. I have half a mind to volunteer to take over for her, but I am not sure I have the free time to devote to the project."

"Rachel honey, it's a preschool Christmas pageant, I don't think it's meant to be taken quite so seriously," Leroy told her daughter, the amusement clear in his voice.

"It's a performance, and all performances should be taken seriously," Rachel replied archly. "I have been working with Libby on her range and projection, if the other children just 'show up and sing' as Miss Pillsbury is expecting, Libby is going to decimate them, and there is no doubt she will be given the lead."

"I sing from my belly," Libby cried.

Rachel turned to Libby with a smile, happy that her lessons had been absorbed. "Correct, to maximize projection it is always best to sing from your diaphragm."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I think these types of pageants are just meant to be fun, not a bloodthirsty competition." Hiram was well acquainted with his daughter's ceaseless need to compete, and win, he just wasn't sure it was something that she should be imparting to Libby at such a young age.

"Competition is fun!" Rachel insisted. "All I am doing is ensuring that Libby is the most prepared she can be, so that she is able to do her absolute best. What is the possible harm in that?"

"I crush them!" Libby cried loudly, clenching her first and holding it aloft.

"I present exhibit A," Leroy replied drolly.

Once dinner was done, everyone helped clear the table, and for once, the Berry men didn't refuse the assistance. Quinn was stuffed to bursting, but she hadn't eaten nearly as much as Santana. She really wasn't sure where the slender Latina put it all; never had she seen someone put away that much turkey in a single sitting.

Cleanup complete, everyone wandered into the living room, and collapsed onto various seating surfaces. Santana and Brittany once again claimed the love-seat, the brunette laying prone, her feet hanging off the edge, and her head resting in the blonde's lap. Hiram and Leroy took up residence on the large sofa, and Quinn claimed a wingback, and Rachel perched on the arm. A move that surprised Quinn at first, until she remembered that they were supposed to be upping the 'cuddle quotient.' Libby reclaimed her spot in front of the TV, curling up with her blanket and Mr. Tubs.

Rachel draped her arm over the back of Quinn's chair, letting her body slide down the arm, and closer to Quinn. Taking the hint, Quinn lay her arm along the inside of Rachel's thigh, and cupped her knee, running her thumb in idle circles.

"So I know we don't usually start until after 8 PM, to give everyone a chance to relax and digest, but I was thinking we could start a little earlier this year," Hiram finally broke the comfortable silence, nodding his head in Libby's direction.

"That's probably a good idea honey, I can't stay up as late as I used too, old age has taken its toll," Leroy remarked, somewhat drowsily.

"Well you know I am not going to complain," Rachel informed her fathers. Quinn followed the conversation lazily, figuring that they were discussing yet another Berry family tradition.

"Okay, everyone go get comfortable, we meet back here in thirty," Hiram informed the group, pushing himself to his feet and heading for the stairs.

"I'm already comfortable, and I'm not moving," Santana insisted.

"Suit yourself, but I am changing." Rachel stood up and motioned for Quinn and Libby to follow. "C'mon lets go get changed."

"Changed?" Quinn questioned, not really thrilled with the idea of having to move, she had just gotten comfortable.

"For the movie," Rachel explained. "You don't want to stay in your street clothes, it will be far more comfortable if you change into your pajamas." Rachel walked over to Libby and offered the toddler her hands. Libby grabbed them instinctively, and Rachel pulled her to her feet.

Thirty minutes later, everyone was gathered once again in the living room. True to her word, Santana hadn't moved an inch, and by virtue of her position, neither had Brittany. While Quinn, Rachel, and Libby had been upstairs getting changed into their pajamas and loungewear, Leroy had pushed the chairs, and coffee table, to the side of the living room, and stacked an assortment of pillows and blankets in front of the couch.

Rachel wasted no time claiming a spot to the far left of the couch. Grabbing a number of pillows she fluffed them vigorously before placing them against the couch, creating a plush nest to settle back into. Once she was settled she reached a hand out for Quinn, pulling the blonde down beside her. Once the blonde was snuggled against her side, Rachel drew a blanket over them.

She grabbed another pillow and rested it in the small space created between her leg and Quinn's. She patted the pillow, and motioned for Libby to join them. Libby waste little time and quickly snuggled back into the pillow, once again clutching Mr. Tubs, and pulling her blanket over herself.

Hiram entered the room, clutching a large bowl of popcorn, and several smaller, empty bowls. He settled himself on the couch beside Leroy, placing the bowl on the empty cushion next to him. "Everyone ready?"

Receiving an assortment of affirmative answers, and a grunt from Santana, Hiram reached for the remote and hit play.

"What are we watching anyway?" Quinn finally thought to ask. She didn't really care for herself, and while she was sure that the Berry men wouldn't let Libby watch a movie that was inappropriate, she thought it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Only the most overrated movie ever made," Santana chimed in from across the room.

"Santana take that back," Rachel demanded.

"Make me," Santana taunted, secure in the knowledge that she was safely out of reach.

"Daddy, I don't think Santana needs any leftovers this year, and I am thinking maybe next year we should reconsider our guest list."

The smirk that Santana had been sporting, slid off her face at lightning speed. "Sorry," Santana muttered begrudgingly. "The _Wizard of Oz _is the greatest feat of cinema ever created."

Rachel nodded her head approvingly. "Well I wouldn't necessarily go that far, but it is incredible."

At the mention of the _Wizard of Oz, _Libby perked up, and turned around to look at her mother and Rachel. "Ding dong?" she asked, her eyes glowing with excitement. Quinn bit back a groan. She had only just barely managed to get the girl to stop asking to watch the film on an almost daily basis. This would surely not help her cause.

Rachel beamed a smile at Libby and nodded her head. "Yup. Every year, its tradition." Libby squealed in excitement and spun around to face the screen, where the MGM Lion was performing his iconic roar.

"You get used to it," Leroy commiserated, having seen the less than thrilled look on Quinn's face. "You have no choice."

Quinn glanced down at the brunette, who had snuggled into her side, and was resting her head on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn could see she was silently mouthing the dialogue. Next she flicked her gaze to Libby, who was practically squirming in delight, and kicking her feet in excitement.

"I can handle that," Quinn replied, and not for the first time, she found herself wishing that this wasn't all a lie.


End file.
